by Dan Zangari
“Tomorrow evening, at this same time, place the anchor in a secluded room in Demitru’s home and we’ll be back then.”
12
Preparations
The following evening, within a lavish bedchamber in Demitru’s home, Kalder and Hagen are softly conversing as they await the return of their leader.
“It’s about time,” Kalder says from a lounge chair in the outer corner of the room. “I’ll close the drapes.”
“Alright,” Hagen squeaks out and rises from the edge of the bed, all the while pulling the conjuration anchor from his tunic.
Kalder moves to the wall next to his seat where a large window overlooks the more affluent parts of Arbath, which is shrouded in twilight; from his vantage point, the warrior can see many of the tops of large estate homes which slope down to the historic district in the east.
Sternly gazing out over the city, Kalder grabs the drapes and draws them shut.
“It’s placed,” Hagen calls out and Kalder turns around to see the conjuration anchor in the middle of the large room.
“Hagen,” the warrior looks to the short illusionist, “Why don’t you check to see if Demitru is back.”
“Alright,” Hagen says and moves toward the door of the bedchamber.
Several minutes pass when Hagen returns to the room; the illusionist quietly shuts the door and disappointedly shakes his head.
“I wonder what’s taking him so long…?” Kalder ponders aloud.
In that same instant, golden light gathers above the black device in the center of the room; it grows in shape, then two figures appear within it.
The magic quickly fades then Cornar and Amendal appear in the room, the former holding a brown sack which is partially full.
“Welcome back,” Kalder says and smiles at his mentor.
“Thanks,” Cornar grins then asks, “Did you have fun last night?”
“Of course,” Kalder nods his head then glances to Hagen, “And so did he.”
The elder warrior looks to the illusionist, who is blushing and averting his gaze to the thick carpeting on the floor.
“Really?!” Amendal blurts out in surprise, “Hagen was in bed with a woman?! I don’t believe it…”
“Yes,” Hagen nods his head, still staring at the floor. “She’s a widow from a small town called Arin – well, she lives on a country estate out there, and she’s really wealthy.”
“He did magic tricks for her,” Kalder says and attempts to hold back laughter, “She was really enthralled.”
“You what?!” Amendal cries out and stares at Hagen with a flabbergasted expression smeared across his wrinkled face. “You didn’t put her under a spell, did you? Is that the only way you can get a woman?!”
In response to the old conjurer’s aggravated assumptions, both warriors immediately burst into laughter.
“No!” Hagen sighs then shakes his head, “She was just really intent. She never had an illusionist privately perform for her.”
“And,” Kalder struggles to say as he continues to hysterically laugh, “A naked one, at that.”
“And I’m going to see her again. She gave me directions to the country estate where she lives, so I’m going to go out there when we’re all settled in.”
“You didn’t bind her with magical rope did you?” Amendal raises his brow.
“No!” Hagen blurts out, “Just drop it, okay?”
“Hmm,” Amendal stoically gazes to the ceiling in thought and rubs his chin. “Maybe I should do that next time…”
“Next time?” Cornar laughs and looks to Amendal and shakes his head. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”
“No. You would be surprised,” Amendal takes in a deep breath then seriously states, “I am a handsome man. And women still fall for my good looks and witty charm.”
The companions in adventure further laugh at Amendal and as they do, Nordal walks into the room.
“Geez,” Nordal says as he closes the door, “You four are quite loud.”
Amid the laughter, Kalder points to Amendal and shakes his head.
“Nordal has a point,” Cornar cheerily says and quells his laughter. “Where are we exactly?”
“West of the historic district,” Nordal answers, “On that hill northwest of the home we broke into yesterday.”
“That’s a long walk from the Alluring,” Cornar observes, “You must have gotten back earlier today.”
“No,” Kalder shakes his head, “We traveled through the under-city. It only took us half an hour to get here.”
“That’s impossible!” Cornar retorts, “How?”
“We rode in some sort of carriage,” Nordal says, “It was pushed or pulled by some magical means. Demitru really didn’t explain it; just that it was something from the time of the Karthar Empire.”
“The under-city reminded me of Merda,” Kalder says, “There are labyrinths of ruins beneath Arbath, which looked a lot like the elven city.”
“It actually looked like Alath’s inner city,” Hagen states, “Some of it at least.”
“To each his own,” Kalder speaks up, “Demitru told us that everything north of the docking district, on the city mound, is built on top of the old Arbath. He said that after the war with Karthar, Arbath was heavily damaged beyond repair, so the Mage-King and his father had the city buried then rebuilt it anew. That’s what current day Arbath is.
“However, he went on to tell us that his order has been excavating the ruins for hundreds of years, and are restoring parts of it. Demitru added that no Kingdom officials, other than those within his order, know about the under-city, so it would be a great place to store our supplies that we’ll ship back to the White Duchess.
“I’ve already arranged for the first shipment.”
“Good,” Cornar nods his head and lowers the brown sack to the floor and asks, “I take it there are more entrances to the under-city?”
“Lots,” Nordal replies and folds his arms, “Most are hidden within offices or homes that members of his order either manage or live in. In fact, this house has an access in the basement.
“So we haven’t even stepped outside since we entered the Alluring.”
“Interesting,” Cornar nods his head then mutters, “Like in Alath…
“Did you have to use some special words to open up the accesses?”
“No,” Kalder shakes his head.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Hagen speaks up, “I asked Demitru and he was curious to know what I was talking about. I told him what we found in Alath and how we snuck into Iltar’s trial–”
“He was quite surprised,” Kalder interjects. “It seems his friends eyes and ears in Alath didn’t notice either of you; so he’s not as all knowing as he claimed to be.
“Sorry, Hagen.”
“That’s okay,” the short illusionist shrugs and continues, “I told him everything about those tunnels and he mentioned he had only heard rumors of them. Demitru went on to relate a story that he had heard from others in his order:
“There was once a network of tunnels which connected each of the cities on the mainland. They called them trans-tubes –”
“That’s what those men called it!” Cornar interrupts Hagen, “I wonder…”
“Well,” Hagen continues, “I don’t think those men are connected to Demitru’s order, because Demitru was saying they’ve been looking for a way to access those tunnels for a very long time. He went on to say that it was rumored that the Mage-King had sealed them up during his reign; however, it’s just hearsay.”
“Demitru was anxious to know how you accessed those trans-whatevers,” Nordal speaks up, “Perhaps you can use that to bargain with him.”
“Yea,” Hagen chuckles, “I couldn’t remember what those words were.”
Slyly looking at his companions, Cornar says, “For the right price, I might remember it.”
“Demitru also suggested we settle outside of Arbath,” Kalder states. “He said the mages constantly
patrol the entire city. They search every building: Offices, homes, shops, eateries and anything else you can think of every month. Their patrols are random, and it would be hard to time the searches.
“But, in smaller towns and villages there are only patrols once every two months. And, since those areas are so widespread the mages rarely vary their routes.”
“It would definitely be easier in the countryside,” Nordal interjects. “We could see them coming a ways off. Perhaps, we could have the conjurers send out small creatures to keep watch.”
“I like that,” Cornar nods his head. “Hagen, how far is that small village you mentioned?”
“Arin?” the illusionist asks then rolls his eyes in thought, “I think around four hundred grand phineals? It’s by the Arban river.”
“I think we should look to settle over there,” Cornar nods his head then motions to the sack at his feet, “I’ve brought some of my share of the loot.”
“How much?” Nordal asks.
“Enough to whet Demitru’s interests. I plan to use mine and Iltar’s share of the loot. If we need more, the others on the White Duchess have agreed to offer a portion of their share.”
“I’ll try to get as much coin as possible out of my share. I have plenty of rare relics and a lot of gold; some of which I brought from Soroth.”
“Was that wise?” Hagen asks in a worried tone.
“It’ll be Demitru’s problem,” Cornar grins, “I’m sure his friends can melt it down and turn it into some forged Losian coin. If they’re as secretive as he says they are, I’m sure they can do that.
“Now where is that scoundrel?”
Shrugging near the door, Nordal responds, “He hasn’t returned yet. But his maid is almost finished preparing dinner. That’s one reason why I came up here.”
“His maid knows we’re here?!” Cornar angrily demands.
“Relax Cor,” Nordal says with a wide grin forming upon his face, “It’s the woman I was with last night, Arina.”
“Well,” Amendal pipes up and walks toward the door, “I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go,” Nordal says with the smile still across his face and opens the door, leading his companions out of the room.
Cornar and Kalder are the last to leave the bedroom, with the former carrying the brown sack in his hands.
The six men travel down a hallway with several doorways along its sides. It eventually opens up into a two story foyer and a wide curving stairwell. The space has a sense of elegance to it, from its intricately carved wooden paneling to its large chandelier hanging in the middle of the foyer and the beautiful stone covering the floor.
Looking to Kalder as they descend the stairs, Cornar whispers, “This place looks like it cost a fortune.”
“It’s huge,” Kalder says as he shakes his head. “There are at least eight bedrooms upstairs.”
As they enter the foyer, Cornar notices a grand set of double doors to his right.
“This way,” Kalder says and points to their left.
Both warriors walk side by side and follow the others as they walk across a corridor which intersects the rear of the foyer, which runs the width of the home and further opens up to a large gathering room.
“Demitru’s chambers are that way,” Kalder says and points to his left. “There’s another pair of stairs under the ones we descended. There are a lot more rooms down there, one of which leads to the under-city.”
“I wonder where he earned the coin to purchase this place,” Cornar says as he and Kalder enter the large gathering room adjacent to the corridor.
The two warriors silently enter the space, which is nearly twenty five phineals square: Off-white woodwork lines the corners of the space, with similar wooden paneling covering the right wall. In the center of the aforementioned wall is a large fireplace which rises just higher than an average man’s height.
Elegant furniture is arranged in front of the fireplace; three large sofas covered in beige fabric and a knee-high table with a granite-like tabletop. Each of the pieces have legs carved from wood with gold inlayed within the grooves.
To the left of the room is a shallow curving alcove with five floor to ceiling bookcases lining the niche.
On the far side of the room is a wall full of towering windows; its view is similar to that in the bedchamber where Cornar and Amendal had appeared.
“Beautiful view,” Cornar observes as he gazes out the windows while he and Kalder follow the others through the lavish space. “And nothing to obstruct it.”
“And no one can really see inside from the other homes,” Kalder replies, “Perfect for us.”
Both warriors continue to follow the others as they move across the rear of the gathering room to the right, then into a short but wide corridor which leads to a dining hall.
The dining hall is rectangular in shape; it is situated at an angle from the gathering room and has a curving bay with similar towering windows which allow a view to the east and northeast.
A long dark wood table, with six seats on either side, fills the majority of the space; it’s carved with intricate wave-like designs splashing from its legs and corners.
On the wall opposite of the curving bay and between an open doorway are two recessed cabinets; their doors are made of wood and clear glass, showcasing elegant plates and utensils.
Footsteps echo from the doorway between the cabinets when Arina emerges with two plates of food in her hands.
“Sit wherever you want,” Arina says and puts the plates in front of the nearest chairs.
As Arina turns around and exits the dining room from the same way she entered, Cornar and Kalder move to two seats near the windows.
“You know,” Cornar says as he places the sack against the windows behind his chair, “I thought she was a noble woman or wife of an affluent trader; not a maid.”
“She works with Demitru,” Kalder says, “I think she’s a member of that order of his.”
The others take their seats as the two warriors converse and Arina reenters the room, this time with Tilthan trailing behind her with a single plate in his hands.
“What were you saying?” Arina asks as she puts both plates down.
Looking at the maid with a stern expression across his face, Cornar restates, “I just didn’t take you for a maid, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Arina chuckles, “This is what I do to relax. I’m not really a maid.”
“She’s an assassin,” Tilthan blurts out then sits down across from Cornar.
“Don’t say it like that,” Arina pouts her lower lip and raise her brow at the thief.
Leaning across the table, Tilthan slyly says, “I think she was going to kill that man you took back to the White Duchess.”
Hearing the thief’s speculation, Arina rolls her eyes then walks back through the doorway.
“How’d you kill him anyway?” Tilthan asks and grabs a utensil next to his plate.
“I gutted his stomach,” Cornar says seriously and eyes Tilthan, “Then I plucked his left eye out.”
Tilthan stops briefly and stares at his plate, all the while listening to Cornar.
“After that, I shoved it into his mouth and forced him to swallow it. Then I grated off his toes…” Cornar pauses briefly and continues to examine the thief, whose face shows growing signs of disgust.
Seeing the scene play out, Nordal laughs and asks, “What’d you really do Cor?”
“Kenard took the White Duchess out to sea. We bound him then threw him overboard.”
“I liked the first way better,” Arina states as she reenters the dining hall and sits down next to Tilthan.
“So,” Cornar changes the subject of the conversation, “Where is Demitru?”
“I don’t know,” Arina states, “He should be back soon.”
* * * * *
Nearly half an hour later, Cornar, Amendal, Hagen, Kalder, Nordal, Tilthan and Arina are sitting on the sofas within the gathering room; the two leading warriors are sitting
on the long seat across from the fireplace while the mages sit alone to their left, with Nordal, Arina and Tilthan on the sofa which faces the windows.
Cornar and Kalder quietly stare at the flames burning within the fireplace; each appear lost in thought and pay no attention to the others who are quietly conversing.
A brief moment passes when the sounds of footsteps echo from the hallway adjacent to the large and lavish space.
Hearing the sound, Cornar and each of his companions look toward the hallway and see Demitru tiredly walking into the room; in his hands are several rolls of parchment.
“What took you so long buddy?” Tilthan asks with a raised brow.
Raising his hand grasping the rolls of parchment, Demitru states, “I was waiting for these.”
“What are they?” Kalder asks as he and the others examine Demitru, who is maneuvering around the sofas and toward an empty spot next to Amendal near the fireplace.
“Documentations,” Demitru answers and sits down. He hands the rolls to Amendal then says, “For Hagen and Cornar.”
“B-but,” Hagen stammers as Amendal hands him the parchments, “I don’t want to go to the prison castle!”
Laughing at the short illusionist, Demitru replies, “It’s not for that. I had these travel documents forged for you; you’ll need them in order to purchase a place for all of you to hide out.
“It’s going to take a lot longer to create an identity which will allow one of you to infiltrate the prison.”
Looking to Cornar, Demitru continues, “I figured you would want to be under some kind of illusion when you buy your place.”
“Rightly so,” the warrior nods his head in response and reaches for the parchment in Hagen’s hands.
“You two are posing as writers from Tor,” Demitru answers, “You’ve created several plays and novels; the details you’ll have to figure out yourself.
“And I suggest you find a place outside of Arbath; it’ll be much easier to purchase a country estate.”
“We’ve already discussed that,” Cornar mentions and unrolls the parchments, carefully examining each of them.