Treachery in the Kingdom

by Dan Zangari

  Just as Dorith finishes his opening address, Cornar and Hagen reach the far end of the balcony. All the seats are occupied, but the warrior motions toward the rail.

  “Why don’t we kneel here,” the warrior whispers into the illusionist’s ear.

  They both drop down at the rail and lean against it. Cornar briefly turns around toward several men and women and asks while motioning to himself and Hagen, “Do you mind?”

  The citizens shake their heads and the warrior turns back around to stare out at the stage; the six mages evenly move to either side of the stage while another man walks from behind one of the curtains and toward the tall empty chair atop the pedestal at the center of the stage. He is dressed in a grey formal garb with both black and grey accents in the form of tassels, emblems and buttons. Once he ascends to the seat he sternly and clearly articulates his address.

  “On behalf of the people of Alath, I, Arbiter Hastrin call for the accused to come forth!”

  At the Arbiter’s command, the three mages on the audience’s left move toward the curtains of the stage on that side. They pull the draperies open and reveal Iltar encased within crystalline magic, still poised with his left arm outstretched and a fierce scowl across his face. The magic is mostly transparent and ovoid in shape, stretching just over a phineal away from the dark necromancer.

  The containing magic is resting upon a pedestal-like seat. It moves forward as Dorith points at it and motions toward the front of the stage.

  “There he is…” Hagen mutters and looks to Cornar.

  The warrior has a stern expression across his illusionary composed face and solemnly examines Iltar as the pedestal stops just in front of the towering seat where the Arbiter is sitting.

  “As Arbiter of Alath, I charge you with the murder of council members of the Mages of Alath, murder of civil officials, murder of members of the Kingdom Guard, murder of innocent citizens, murder of children, all but the first committed on a massive scale. The use of necromancy, use of magic to lethal ends, espionage, seeking and attaining asylum under false pretense. Inciting war under false pretense.

  “To validate these accusations, we will hear from various witnesses after which verdicts will be put forth before the body assembled here today. I call to the stage once again, Grandmaster Dorith.”

  Cornar and Hagen solemnly listen as Dorith recounts the events of the last several weeks; how Iltar came to the mages to warn them of a powerful necromancer who was plotting to destroy anyone who opposed him in his quest for dominion and power. The grandmaster continues by carefully unfolding the necromancer’s plot, yet without making any mention of the ancient amulet.

  Dorith goes on to explain that they had sent emissaries in search of the necromancer and to discover his plot. However, when they returned they learned that the one they were searching for was none other than Iltar.

  He goes on to relate that they attempted to apprehend Iltar, in the which they erected the barsion veil that covered the inner city. However, he was nowhere to be found and thus they decided to evacuate the inner city. It was then that Iltar attempted to escape, which resulted in the loss of hundreds of lives.

  Dorith expresses that Iltar was intending to discover the weaknesses of the Mages of Alath, and learn where and when to strike a devastating blow.

  In addition, among all of Iltar’s lies he made mention of powerful accomplices to the necromancer

  Once Dorith finishes speaking, Hagen whispers to Cornar, “Why do you think he didn’t bring up the amulet or Iltar stealing the scrolls?”

  “I doubt they would want that to be public knowledge,” Cornar responds to the illusionist. “After all, they didn’t tell that mage they sent.”

  The other five mages of the Estate’s council go on to explain a story similar to that of Dorith’s. They are followed by a medley of Alath’s citizens who had witnessed or participated in the battle. Each attest to the fierceness of the battle and the devastation this one necromancer was able to produce. Several hours pass in testimony when Arbiter Hastrin raises both of his hands and loudly proclaims the following;

  “Citizens of Alath, you have heard the testimonies of many concerning Iltar’s deeds. As Arbiter I put forth to you the various verdicts as predetermined by the Council of Justice.

  “Although he is guilty of suffering the most capital of punishments, Iltar’s unique abilities have brought about a difficult course of action.

  “The first verdict is the sentencing to death; however I will add that carrying out this verdict could result in further loss of life. As it has been explained to me by Grandmaster Dorith, Iltar cannot be harmed while contained within this particular magic. In order to execute him, the magic must be relinquished. Iltar will most likely attempt to escape and kill anyone that stands in his way. The members of the council are willing to sacrifice their lives to carry out this verdict, as well as some of the Agents of the Order.

  “But citizens, please consider this second verdict; Life-time imprisonment within the Prison Castle of Los. Deep within the bowels of the castle is a portion of the prison which has held the deadliest of magic users. Within these deepest reaches no mage can cast a spell or muster magic.

  “Iltar will be escorted by the Estate’s council, in which they will release him at the threshold of this portion of the prison and escort him to a cell, where he will spend the remainder of his days.

  “The Council of Justice has carefully reviewed the following verdicts and believe the latter is most prudent. Nevertheless, as decreed by our first king, Dorin, it will be yours to decide the future of the accused.

  “Citizens, it is time to raise your voices. Speak Iltar’s fate.”

  An erupting wave of cries fills the vast auditorium; many chant in unison, “Prison, Prison, Prison!” Others shout, “To the Castle with him!” while a few faint shouts of, “Death!” lightly echo through the enormous room.

  Cornar solemnly stands up, and as he rises to his feet the short illusionist leans toward him and sarcastically remarks in a raised voice, “I don’t suppose crying ‘free him’, will help.”

  The warrior sighs and looks at Hagen with a raised brow then says, “Let’s get out of here and ask around about this prison.”

  As the warrior and illusionist walk back along the edge of the balcony, the chanting verdicts slowly die out, then Arbiter Hastrin’s voice rings through the auditorium.

  “So it shall be. Iltar will be sentenced to the Prison Castle for the remainder of his days.

  “This day justice has fallen upon the enemies of the Kingdom. May it be a reminder to all that justice prevails against all else. Trial concluded!”

  The gong resounds at the Arbiter’s final statement, signaling the end of Iltar’s trial. Immediately after, the rushing sound of those in attendance rising to their feet echoes through the auditorium as well as a bustling sound of chatter.

  Cornar and Hagen push their way up the stairs of the balcony and exit the auditorium as many others are rising from their seats. The two companions hastily walk across the second story foyer and toward the nearest stairwell on their left

  “I want to find a library,” Cornar says as he looks over his shoulder to Hagen.

  “Here?” Hagen asks as he and Cornar reach the stairs leading to the first floor.

  “Yes,” the warrior responds as they descend the stairs, “There must be one around here.”

  The illusionary clothed companions reach the foyer of the grand auditorium, which is now crowded with citizens exiting from the plaza level, and make their way toward one of the many doorways.

  * * * * *

  A quarter of an hour later, Cornar and Hagen arrive at the historical district of Alath’s inner city; it is northeast of the Estate and is made up of a variety of buildings of exquisite design, much akin to the rest of the inner city.

  Cornar and Hagen both tread between several buildings and come to an open courtyard; it is fairly large with most of the buildings in the small historical distri
ct facing its center. At the courtyard’s heart is a cluster of three statues; Each are stone representations of strong men reaching their arms toward the sky as if grasping for some unseen object or force.

  “That woman said the library was to the right of the statues,” Cornar remarks and looks in the direction he had mentioned.

  The warrior nods his head toward a four story tall building that stretches for a few hundred phineals along the courtyard. It’s entrance is housed within a two story portico, its roof is barreled in shape and held up by two columns.

  Cornar and Hagen quickly walk toward the library’s entrance and enter its main doors, which immediately opens up into a wide corridor nearly twenty phineals wide and high with a barreled ceiling. It stretches in length twice its width, with curved alcoves lining each of its walls. Within the alcoves are white alabaster statues of various men and women embracing varying forms of knowledge, books, scrolls and tablets.

  As the wide hallway ends, it opens up to a vast welcoming room. Directly in front of the entry corridor is a large stone welcoming desk of intricate design where an elderly woman is busily perusing texts behind a raised counter. Her white hair is short and hangs partway down her neck.

  Immediately behind her and the desk is another alcove, however much larger than the others in the corridor; within it is another statue of a robed man looking upward; etched upon his robe are various symbols much like the formal garbs worn by the council members in the trial. His right hand is raised and grasping an ornate staff; his forearm is bare a little below the wrist, revealing a muscular build. In his other hand are several books and scroll cases clutched between his arm and torso. His face is clean shaven and is somewhat long with a sharp jaw line.

  Cornar strides up to the edge of the stony counter while Hagen stops midstride and gazes up at the statue.

  “Excuse me,” Cornar politely beckons in a hushed tone.

  The elderly librarian looks up from the texts in response and pleasantly smiles at Cornar as she listens to his request.

  “We just came from the trial of that necromancer and we’re interested to learn about the place he is being sent to. Do you have any texts on the prison castle? Might I add that we’re from Kildath, and passing through back home.”

  “So it was the Castle,” the librarian sighs, “That is better than the alternative.”

  “You seem relieved,” Cornar observes and furrows his brow in thought.

  “Yes,” the librarian answers. “I do not believe Adrin would want one of his sons to be executed, although he has become the very evil his father fought so hard against. And besides, he is a distant relative to me; Adrin and I are cousins.”

  “I see,” the warrior nods his head, “Well we haven’t heard of this castle before and thought it was interesting that they send magic users there.”

  “My apologies,” the librarian shakes her head, “Let me show you where you can find that information.”

  The elderly librarian moves around the desk and to Cornar’s left, she motions for him to follow and notices Hagen still staring at the statue.

  “It’s not going to move,” Cornar calls out to the illusionist.

  “Wha-what?” Hagen stammers and walks toward the warrior and librarian.

  “It’s a beautiful statue, isn’t it?” the librarian asks as she turns around and continues walking to the left of the welcoming room.

  “Uh,” Hagen responds, “Yes it is. Who is it representing?”

  “Dorin, the Mage-King.”

  Hagen looks to Cornar with wide eyes and both follow the librarian into a room not far from the welcoming area. It is nearly fifteen phineals square; its walls are lined with bookshelves as well as rows of shelves around a small table in the middle of the room.

  “This is the Appendix Chamber,” the librarian states, “You can find a variety of topics in alphabetical order throughout any of these tomes. These will reference other books throughout the library.

  “You may take any one of the Appendices with you, but when you are done please return the tomes here.

  “There are also rooms in which you can privately conduct your research; they are all along the bottom floor.”

  “Thank you,” Cornar bows his head.

  Once the librarian finishes speaking, she quietly walks out of the room.

  “Let’s start looking,” Cornar says and walks along the rows of the shelves, carefully looking at the bindings of the tomes.

  Almost a quarter of an hour later, Hagen walks into one of the many private rooms, carrying a stack of books. The room is quite small with a plain wooden table and chairs in its center.

  “I think that’s the last of them,” the illusionist squeaks out and places the books on the table next to the opened Appendix.

  “Close the door,” Cornar mutters from the right of the table, his gaze is focused on one of the many opened tomes.

  Hagen does as the warrior says then sits across the table from Cornar.

  “I’ve found a few things,” the warrior says and closes the book. “The castle is thirty five hundred grand phineals from Alath and sits upon cliffs overlooking the Gulf of Los.

  “There is nothing around it for as far as the eye can see and it is over one hundred phineals above the water; nearly impossible to lay siege to without being seen.”

  “What?!” Hagen slams his hands on the table and leans across it. “You’re not thinking we fight our way inside? Like in Merda?”

  “We don’t have a bunch of half-witted brutes to storm it for us,” Cornar remarks, “No, I’m not sure how we’re going to get in. Perhaps we can find something in here.”

  Hagen sighs and shakes his head while Cornar examines the open page on the appendix tome.

  After an hour of silent reading, Hagen speaks up. “I think I found out why they’re sending Iltar there.”

  “Why?” Cornar asks without looking up from the book he is reading.

  “Well the prison was built specifically for locking away renegade mages fifteen hundred years ago. This history I’m reading says it was the first prison ever to be built since the dragon wars.

  “The author doesn’t say why, but supposedly major crimes were being committed by mages. It started with a couple every year or so, but then grew in frequency over the following decades.

  “Originally the prison was deep below the ground, and as crimes increased throughout the mainland they built more and eventually erected the castle. The place where Iltar is going is called the ‘Mage-Block’ and no magic can be cast within it,” Hagen gulps then adds, “This is what the author says about it, ‘…These evil magic users were kept in the bowels of the prison. The Mages of Alath, as well as some elves from the west, had developed a means to snuff out all magic within an area. They used this to bring the evil mages on an equal ground with their jailers.’ That doesn’t sound good.”

  Cornar puts down the book in his hands then says, “I was reading about that in this memoir from a former guard, Gredath Bron. He told a brief story about it, let me find it.”

  Cornar flips through the pages of the book then clears his throat, “Here’s what he said ‘…the Mage-Block, I was stationed there many times. I remember once, a renegade mage from Tor was brought to the prison. She was very powerful, and it took quite a substantial force to subdue her by use of elven cords. After we escorted her into the Mage-Block we removed the cords. She turned to me and shouted the words to a spell, but nothing happened! I can still see the look on her face and when I think about that incident it brings a humorous smile to my face…’

  “I read in another part that not a single prisoner has ever escaped from the Mage-Block.”

  “Then how are we going to get him out?” Hagen asks, “The more we delve into this the more daunting it becomes.”

  “No prison is that perfect,” Cornar retorts, “There has to be a weakness. We still have more pages to search, let’s keep looking.”

  Another quarter of an hour passes when Cornar speaks
up in a cheery tone, “I think I found something. There is a story relating to the prison castle within a book which attempts to prove or disprove modern-day fables. The author says the story is most likely a means to frighten new guards as a sort of initiation. Here it is:

  “…And here we come to the legendary ‘Escape from Los’s Prison Castle’, a rather unique story which has circulated about the guards of the castle and most likely been exaggerated over the years. Some people I have talked to have related second and third hand accounts of the story, but I have never met anyone that was there the day these events took place.

  “It supposedly occurred just before the rise of the Mindolarn Empire and involved the historical character loosely known as ‘The Witch of Negdan’. She had started a cult in the mountains on the Losian border with Cordath which eventually caught the attentions of the Mages of Alath. She was captured and delivered to the castle, that much is true.

  “Now this is where the legend starts. Supposedly an emissary from Cordath arrived on behalf of his nation’s rulers. He came alone with a suit of armor and two weapons. As the normal procedures go, no one is allowed with weapons inside the castle beside the guards, so he left his possessions at the gate house.

  “The emissary was escorted to the Mage-Block where he requested to meet with the witch in private. After a short interrogation, the guards stationed outside of her cell heard screaming and loud thuds.

  “To their surprise when they opened the door, the emissary was carrying a green glowing blade, composed entirely out of magic. The story goes on to say that the guards attempted to apprehend the emissary but when he looked at them they struck still as stone, like in that ancient fable with Ichlarn when his army was charmed by the dragon because they stared into the beast’s eyes.

  “Some say that in his escape from the Mage-Block he killed half of the guards, others say he was so fast that he could maneuver around the guards. As he made his way out of the castle and across the courtyard he cast a spell which engulfed the entire castle, stopping everyone in mid-motion. Those that believe he was so quick state that the emissary simply was able to dodge the bolts and arrows fired at him.