by Jon Bender
Jaxom knew exactly how he felt. Making choices that could lead to the death of people who trusted you was always difficult. Jaxom had made such decisions often enough and had second-guessed himself every time. “Getting Tandis will reduce the lives lost in the end,” Jaxom said
Enrick nodded then looked down at the parchment map. “We will be ready to leave tomorrow. By the time we arrive in Omest, my men will be in position. When we get there, I will send a message to start the diversion. I wish we were taking your men and riders with us into the palace.”
“Eighty soldiers all wearing armor and weapons will not go unnoticed, and the durgen would draw even more attention. They are best used if we need to get away from the city quickly,” Jaxom said.
“You’re right, of course. Who do you plan to take?” he asked.
“The other mages, Da’san, and Adriana.”
“Why Adriana?” he asked. Jaxom did not like his interest.
“Besides you and me, she is the only other one who is proficient with steel. I prefer to have people who know how to fight without magic.”
“If that’s the case, I want to bring Gant as well. We have been friends since we were children, and he is good with a sword.”
“Agreed, but we shouldn’t take any more than that. We want to move as quickly as possible.”
“If I thought it was possible, we could try to assassinate Dillion, but I don’t think we could get to him,” Enrick said.
“If the opportunity presents itself, we will, though killing him will not change things immediately. The dark priests won’t simply leave because he is dead.”
“We will do what we must,” Enrick replied firmly.
The next morning, they set out on the three-day march to Omest. Their small unit was forced several times to wait on a passing group of Kelran soldiers before moving on. Traveling through the forest was slow but necessary to keep them away from roads. When they were within five miles of the city, Jaxom and the small group that were to enter the palace left their men to ride the rest of the way alone. Enrick had provided a change of clothes for Da’san’s and Darian’s robes so that they could enter the city unnoticed. The others were dressed plainly enough to not attract attention. Twenty soldiers in green cloaks, and one man wearing the black robes of Or’Keer guarded the main entrance to the city.
As they passed the gates, Jaxom forced himself to grip the reins firmly instead of the hilt of his sword. Making it past the priest without incident, he waited on edge for the emora to slip by. He had known that bringing them was risky. Darian had argued just that point. Whatever the risk, Jaxom felt that the help they could provide would be invaluable inside the palace. If they were discovered, the emora could attack. Though he would hate to lose the cats, his group could simply slip away in the ensuing confusion. Fortunately, he did not have to abandon his new pets. The risen moved slowly along the walls of the gate, shifting their colors to blend into their surroundings. Once they were beyond the guards, they shadowed the group’s movements from the rooftops.
“What now?” Adriana whispered.
“We find an inn close to the palace where we can leave our horses,” Enrick replied. “After that, we wait.”
“Let us hope that whatever your men do, it is enough to draw the dark priests away from the palace,” Da’san said.
“I am not concerned with them,” Darian declared. “We can fight them now or later.”
“We have no idea how many they are,” Da’san answered. “They could be more than we can handle.”
“We are not here looking for a fight,” Jaxom interjected. “Let’s just find an inn and be ready.”
They rode deeper into the city in silence, giving Jaxom a chance to study the people they passed. The people all kept their eyes on the ground as they hurried past Jaxom’s small group. The occasional patrol of soldiers eyed them with suspicion, but even the armored men seemed guarded and wary. As they progressed down the cobblestone street, the houses and buildings grew both in size and in grandeur. Many of the large homes had armed men standing outside their doors, keeping a watchful eye on any who passed by.
Enrick, who was familiar with the city, turned them down a street lined with shops, taverns, and inns. At an inn called the Charging Boar, he led them down an alley to a stable in the rear. They handed their reins to an older man who came out to meet them. Jaxom commanded the risen emora to wait. The mood inside was much the same as on the street, the people seeming to radiate fear. The group took a large table close to the door, and a haggard woman with unkempt hair and a dirty dress approached carrying a tray laden with mugs. Setting a mug in front of each of them, she stepped back and waited.
“We didn’t order these,” Adriana said.
“If you don’t buy something, you have to leave,” she said curtly. Jaxom pulled three silver coins from his pouch and dropped the coins into her hands. She slid the money into a pocket and walked away without another word.
“The service here is of the highest quality,” Darian said sarcastically.
“Trust is hard to come by in the larger cities,” Enrick said. “Those who report to the priests are more numerous here, and a person can be executed for being suspected of blasphemy against Or’Keer or disloyalty to Dillion.”
“Why don’t they just leave?” Lexa asked.
“It is easier to get into the city than out. Those leaving are often stopped by priests and questioned. Even if they do get beyond the city, where would they go? The border is guarded. Anyone caught trying to cross is killed,” Enrick said.
“How did you get through, Magus?” Lexa asked Warin.
“It is much easier for one man to move about than a family, and I was forced to cast several times to avoid being caught,” Warin replied.
“We are going to need someone to watch for when the soldiers begin leaving the palace,” Jaxom said.
“Lexa and I will go,” Warin said, standing.
“Gant, go with them please,” Enrick said to his friend. The rebel stood and followed the two mages out onto the street.
“What does Prince Tandis look like, and how are we going to find him?” Jaxom asked, after they had gone.
“He is a little older than Lexa, about eighteen. He looks like a younger version of his father--brown hair and eyes with a small scar on his left cheek he got while hunting as a child. Once we get through a small side entrance, one of my people will take us to him,” Enrick said.
“What if he won’t come willingly?” Darian asked.
“From everything I have heard, he is a prisoner,” Enrick said, sipping his drink and scrunching up his face at the taste.
“Well, I hope Warin comes back soon with news that your men have done their job. We have been traveling and avoiding fights for over two ten-days now, and I am tired of hiding,” Darian stated.
Jaxom was about to tell his overzealous friend that they would need calm thoughts when he was interrupted. Four Kelran soldiers entered the inn followed by a priest of Or’Keer. The light chatter that had filled the common room instantly disappeared. Those sitting at the tables and small bar took a deep interest in their drinks or food, trying not to draw attention to themselves. The four soldiers spread out to either side of the door as the man in black robes moved about the room.
The priest stopped at a table where two merchants were eating and stood quietly scrutinizing them. “Whom do you serve?” the priest demanded.
At first, neither merchant spoke. The priest furrowed his brow and leaned in. The one closest to him finally spoke. “I serve the powerful and generous god Or’Keer,” the man said in a shaky voice.
“I, too, serve Or’Keer,” the other merchant said right after.
“Why are you slow to answer?” the priest asked, annoyed. “Your hesitation makes me uncertain that you offer our god thanks in your prayers.”
“That is not true, Holiness. I pray often to give thanks to Or’Keer for all that I have. If not for him, we would be lost. Other gods do not care
for us as he does,” the first merchant said. His words had the sound of a mantra.
“What about you?” The priest said to the second man. “What do you thank the lord for?”
“I…” the man stuttered.
“Again, you hesitate. I think you would do well to spend some time at our temple. Don’t you agree?” the priest said.
The second merchant looked to his friend for help but found none. “Yes, Holiness,” he said quietly.
“Do not worry. Our god is merciful to those who admit their transgressions and accept his judgement.”
The black robed man nodded to the soldiers near the door. Two of them stepped forward, grabbing the merchant’s arms and lifting him to his feet. The man hung his head and complied. Jaxom placed a hand on Adriana’s leg to stop her from gripping the mace she had been reaching for. They could not help the man without exposing themselves.
“See that you are surer of your devotion the next time we meet, or you may need to spend time under the tutelage of our brotherhood as well,” the priest said to the first merchant.
The man nodded his head emphatically, but the priest of Or’Keer had already moved away from the table to look about the rest of the common room. Seeing their group, he made his way towards them. Jaxom noted a look of relief on the faces of the other patrons. Jaxom raised his hand slightly from his lap, drawing on the power of death. Under the table, he could see that Darian had done the same.
“Who are you?” the priest asked the group.
“My name is Faylin, Your Holiness,” Jaxom stated. “I am a noble from the north who has come to Omest to speak with some merchants about a supply of grain for my animals. It seems that I may not have enough to last out the winter.” He did his best to imitate a minor noble who thought more highly of his station than was due.
The priest nodded, but Jaxom could not tell if he believed the lie. “And these?” he said, indicating the others at the table.
“My wife, Larisa,” Jaxom said, gesturing toward Adriana. “The men are my servants.”
“And you are a faithful servant of Or’Keer?” he asked.
“Yes, Holiness. I thank him daily for the safety of my family. Without his protection, I fear to think what would have befallen us,” Jaxom said, attempting to adopt an expression of solemn reverence.
“I would expect that one so devout would only employ those who shared his reverence,” the priest said, looking at Da’san.
Jaxom held his breath while forming the coil at his fingertips. Jaxom was not sure if Da’san would be able to play along and not forsake his vow to Sarinsha. “Yes, Holiness. I am loyal to my god,” Da’san said. The dark priest leaned in toward Da’san. Jaxom could feel the power of death coursing through his body in waves. The priest opened his mouth to question further when a soldier walked through the door. Seeing their table, the man approached and whispered something into the priest’s ear. The priest listened and nodded.
Turning to leave, he stopped to look back at Da’san. “We will finish this conversation later,” he said before following the soldier out the door.
“If we ever see him again, he is not going to like how the conversation ends,” Darian declared in a cold voice.
“No, he will not,” Jaxom agreed.
“What do you think was so important that he had to leave off putting fear into people?” Adriana asked.
“I hope it is because my men have begun to draw attention away from this part of the city. Being this close to those priests without attacking them makes my skin itch,” Enrick said.
The rebel leader was proven right. Just then, Warin and the others walked back into the inn. “It’s started. We should go.”
Back out in the street, they saw soldiers running in the direction they had come. Over the tops of the buildings, Jaxom could make out columns of smoke rising into the air from other parts of the city. Moving away from the front of the inn, Jaxom reached out to his risen, commanding them to follow at a close distance. As they neared the palace, they passed several groups of soldiers and priests rushing in the other direction. None paid them any attention. When they reached their destination, Enrick kept them one street away from the surrounding wall as they circled around the side of the building. The size of the palace alone was enough to leave a man in awe. The walls were a pale white unlike the grey of Corin’s or black of Jaxom’s. Towers stretched high into the sky, casting long shadows over the city in what felt like the menacing grip of the dark god.
The first side entrance they came to was guarded by a half dozen soldiers in green cloaks standing in front of an iron-bound wooden door. There was no bolt or latch that Jaxom could see, so he assumed that it was only meant to be opened from the inside. The soldiers took notice of them, but did nothing as the group was still at what they considered a safe distance
“This is it,” Enrick said. Darian took a step forward. Jaxom raised an arm in front of his friend’s chest, stopping him.
“We must take them down all at once, so they can’t raise an alarm,” Jaxom said. “Wait for the emora.”
Jaxom reached out to the large cats. The risen moved slowly along the wall, blending into it as they went. Jaxom was sure the guards would see them but then realized that his magical connection to the risen allowed him to know where they were even when his eyes could not see them. The emora launched themselves towards the unsuspecting men. The first latched onto the back of one man’s neck while the other tore the throat from another in a spray of blood. It happened so quickly that the other soldiers were still in the process of turning to see what happened when daggers of ice bloomed red in the chests of two. Jaxom cast the coil around the throat of another, silencing him before he could cry out. The last man fell to Warin’s cast as he was thrown into the door. The risen finished the job by tearing out the soldier’s throat.
The group moved towards the door as Jaxom raised the dead soldiers who could still fight. Jaxom had two of the risen soldiers pick up the one whose neck had been snapped to carry the body inside. Enrick knocked on the door in code. Jaxom heard two heavy bars drawn back before the door squealed open, revealing a man in green servant’s garb. The group, followed by the two risen cats, moved quickly into a palace garden. The place was likely beautiful in the spring but now the trees only held barren branches and the plant beds were covered in snow. Jaxom moved the soldiers to the side and cut the flow of magic, causing all five to crumple to the ground. The man who had let them in watched in shock.
“Take us to Tandis,” Enrick said, snapping the man out of disbelief.
“Yes, My Lord. This way,” the man said.
They followed their guide inside through a series of turns. Jaxom soon gave up trying to remember them. The trek ended in a corridor lined with small servant quarters. Opening a door at the end, the guide peeked inside, looking to either side before stepping over the threshold. The large hall they entered was decorated with bright tapestries and life-size statues of people, likely past kings and queens of Kelran.
Their guide stopped and whispered to them. “The prince’s rooms are here, but there are four men outside.”
Jaxom nodded and commanded the emora to move around the corner slowly. Following the risen, he was instantly seen by the four guards who drew swords and advanced. The two closest to the door were taken down by the risen as Jaxom released the blight. Twin swirling columns of black and white smoke snaked forward to wrap around the men. The blight found the spaces between their armor and seeped in, rotting away the flesh beneath. Both men screamed in horror. Jaxom directed tendrils to flow into their open mouths, silencing them as it decayed the inside of their throats.
When the guards were all down, Enrick and the others came around the corner. The rebel leader opened the door to the prince’s room and stepped in. Jaxom let the others go first before following behind, commanding the emora to guard the door while they gathered the prince. Inside, he found Enrick standing in front of a young man with a scar on his cheek, holding a dagger.
“My name is Enrick,” the rebel leader explained. A look of recognition came over the prince’s face at hearing the name. “These are my allies. We have come to remove Or’Keer and his followers from Kelran.”
“What do you want from me?” the prince demanded.
“We want to get you out of here, so you can take the throne and give freedom back to our people,” Enrick said.
The prince slowly lowered his dagger. “I am glad you came. My father has been keeping me here, trying to persuade me to side with him.”
“We have a way out. You must follow us,” Enrick said.
“The men guarding my door. What did you do to them?”
“Four of my friends are mages from Ale’adaria who came to help us. We have a priest of Sarinsha as well,” Enrick said.
Jaxom could see the young man’s mind working to process everything he had just learned. He looked at each of the group’s faces in turn and nodded. “We can’t leave yet. If they have that much power, it will be enough to get to my father. He is in a meeting with his commanders, one of the mages who is still loyal to him, and ten of his personal guard. We can kill him now and end this.”
Enrick looked back at Jaxom, questioning.
“Can you take us to your father?” Jaxom asked the prince.
“Yes, he always conducts his meetings in the same room,” Tandis said.
Jaxom looked to the servant who had led them. “You should go before someone finds out that you helped us.” The man bowed and left the room. “Show us the way,” he said to the prince.
The group followed the prince into a large central room of the palace. Above them, a domed ceiling depicted a man in bright silver and gold armor wearing a green cloak. The man was leading an army of men into battle against a larger force with his sword held out before him.
“His name is Ka’Naris, the first King of Kelran. After the Mage War, he united our kingdom under one banner, bringing peace and security,” Tandis explained.
“He must have been good man,” Jaxom said.
“He wasn’t. He was a brutal man who wanted to bring as much land under his power as he could. Ka’Naris did what was necessary to bring order in a time when there was none. Many even considered him a ruthless invader, but after the territories around his land became a part of Kelran, the people found some measure of peace,” Tandis said with a measure of respect.