The Complete Shadow Trilogy

by Dayne Edmondson

  The ship made its way into the harbor, taking a mooring near the center of the southern harbor. The decks became a flurry of activity as the sailors worked together to tie the ship to the docks. Jason went below, partly to not be in the way, but also to retrieve his satchel. On his way back up, Jason stopped at the chamber housing the rangers.

  The rangers of Tar Ebon were a flurry of activity also. They strapped on sword belts, donned iconic cloaks and slung satchels over their shoulders. Captain Gales saw him and gave a brief nod before bending over to lace up his boots.

  Jason and the rangers departed the ship a short time later after thanking and paying the ship’s captain and saying a brief farewell to the crew. The first man off the ship, Hugo, dropped to his knees and kissed the dank wood of the dock, thankful to be on dry land. Hugo had suffered from sea sickness the most.

  The group of men had not gotten to the end of the docks before official-looking men in uniforms met them. “State your business here,” a short man with the rank bars of captain demanded. A squad of six men stood behind him.

  Jason cleared his throat and looked to Captain Gales. Receiving his nod, Jason proceeded to speak. “My name is Jason Thorpe, this is Captain Gales and a contingent of rangers from Tar Ebon. I have come from Tar Ebon with a message for your king. It is urgent I speak with him as soon as possible.”

  The man blinked. Perhaps this was not what he had expected? “Well, the king doesn’t see just anyone,” he began. “You’ll have to wait until he grants you permission.”

  “Will you at least send a message to the palace so he knows we are here?”

  The captain of the customs agents nodded grudgingly. “Yes, yes, we will. What’s your name again?”

  “Jason Thorpe, from Tar Ebon.”

  “Fine. Where are you staying?”

  “Ummm…” Jason pulled out the note Dawyn had given him and skimmed to the section he needed. “The Sea’s Embrace. Can you direct us?”

  The short man adopted a look of surprise at the name before pointing behind himself and to his right. “Go through the Crab Gate and then to Coral Street. You can’t miss it.”

  Jason nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  The customs captain and his agents moved past Jason and the rangers and headed for The Black Shadow.

  “Not very friendly, are they?” Jason whispered to Captain Gales.

  “You’ll find the same in any port city, sir. They’re just doing their jobs, those customs officers. You may want to send a message separately when you get to the inn, as it’s possible they’ll forget to send the message to the palace.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Jason walked to the end of the dock and toward the Crab Gate. He had arrived, but now he needed to find the man Dawyn had recommended to him - Favio.

  Chapter 9

  The Sea’s Embrace stood in stark contrast to Coral Street which it was located along. While Coral Street stank of seafood and seawater, a rich, hearty smell of food cooking, accented by the smell of burning incense, permeated The Sea’s Embrace. Jason took a deep breath as he entered, banishing the scent of Coral Street from his nostrils. “Oh man, that smells so good,” he said.

  Behind Jason, Captain Gales drew a deep breath also. “A smell that makes my stomach grumble, for certain.” Captain Gales turned toward his rangers. “Tarry a moment, men. Let us speak with the innkeeper first.” He closed the door.

  A few patrons near the door turned to look at the newcomers before returning their attention to their food and drink. The sound of an instrument rose above the ruckus of the tavern, emanating from a man near the back of the tavern, standing before the hearth.

  A thin, busty woman passed by, carrying a tray of drinks, and spared them a glance. “Have a seat anywhere, darlin’s,” she said.

  “Ummm, we’re looking for someone…” Jason began, but the woman continued on her way, setting the tray down at a nearby table and handing out drinks.

  “Here you are lads, drink up!”

  The men voiced their approval for the sentiment and set about hoisting their mugs.

  The woman returned her attention to Jason and Captain Gales. She looked them up and down. “That accent…where ya from?”

  Jason blinked. He didn’t think he had an accent. “We,” he gestured to Captain Gales and himself, “are visiting from Tar Ebon. We are looking…” In the back of his mind, he heard the background music stop.

  “Yes, yes, I heard you the first time. You’re looking for someone. Who are you looking for and what makes you think he’s here?”

  Straight to the point then. “His name is Favio and we were told to look for him here by a mutual…friend.”

  The woman cocked an eyebrow. “Just Favio you say? No surname?”

  “We were not given a surname,” Jason replied, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

  “You know there could be a thousand men named Favio in the Citadel, don’t you?”

  “I was led to believe it is a rather…uncommon name. Oh, and he is a…minstrel…” Jason trailed off as his eyes fell upon the musician near the hearth at the back of the tavern. He had dismissed the man at first but remembering Dawyn’s words, he stared at him, wondering.

  The serving woman followed his gaze and smiled. “Go on then. I’ll be around to fetch your drink orders soon.” Without waiting for a reply, the woman hurried off toward the kitchen.

  Jason and Captain Gales made their way toward the musician. As they approached him, he continued oiling his instrument. It appeared to be a string instrument of some sort, though Jason did not know which kind. It did not appear to be a guitar or violin. Jason cleared his throat. “Excuse me, are you Favio?”

  The man did not look up from his instrument. “That depends on who is asking.”

  “Your name is dependent upon who is asking?” Jason asked. “Wouldn’t your name be your name?”

  The man looked up. “Why that would seem logical, wouldn’t it my boy. But you see, I have been known by many names. I wear names like a noblewoman wears dresses. Favio may or may not be one of them. What is your name?”

  “My name is Jason Thorpe. This is Captain Gales, leader of a ranger contingent from Tar Ebon. We were told to find you by a mutual friend, Dawyn Darklance.”

  The man smiled at the mention of Dawyn’s name. “Ah, Dawyn, a nobler man than him can scarce be found.”

  “So you are Favio then?”

  Favio smiled and bowed. “At your service, Lord Thorpe.”

  Feeling silly, Jason motioned upward. “There’s no need for bowing. I’m no lord.”

  “’Tis wise to use titles judiciously when uncertain,” Favio replied.

  Jason shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. Is there some place we can speak…privately?”

  Favio gestured toward his left toward a hallway. “My chambers.” He strode off without waiting, Jason and Captain Gales following close behind.

  Favio’s “chambers” were little more than a storage closet with a cot on the floor. A bench had been re-purposed into a stand for a candle and wash basin, while saddlebags hung on the wall. Barrels and brooms and buckets filled the rest of the room, making for a tight fit.

  “Excuse the mess,” Favio said as way of apology. “And the lack of seating…I am traveling on a minstrel’s wages after all.”

  “It’s…fine,” Jason said, taking in the room. “Have you been here long?”

  “A handful of months, as luck would have it. After my last adventure with Dawyn and his friends I ventured out, seeking to see new places, gather new stories. I realized how fleeting life could be, you see. I made it here but something held me back; something stopped me from boarding a ship and going where the wind would take me.”

  “What was it?” Jason asked.

  Favio shook his head as if coming out of a daze. “Oh, I don’t rightly know. Just a…feeling, I suppose. I started playing here, gathering some measure of fame, but oh, the stories! Fanciful tales from across the sea. Tales of the Rakosh Empire consol
idating its power under a new emperor, swaths of destruction in the wake of their legions. I heard more stories of the lands beyond the storm wall, stories that would make your skin…” he paused as a knock came at the door. “Yes?”

  “It’s Fiorina, m’lord,” the voice of the serving woman Jason had spoken with earlier sounded through the door. “I wanted to check if the men with you would like me to fetch their drinks now.”

  Favio cleared his throat. “Oh, yes, I forgot about that,” he confided to Jason and Captain Gales. He raised his voice. “Yes, you may come in, Fiorina my dear.”

  The latch clicked as the serving woman opened the door. She peaked her head around the door before entering. “What would you like, darlin’s?”

  Captain Gales spoke up right away. “Whiskey if you please.”

  Favio held up a hand. “Nothing for me tonight, my dear.” He looked to Jason and raised an eyebrow.

  Jason thought. “Do you have any regular beer?” he asked at last. He knew in medieval cultures it was safer to drink wine or other alcoholic beverages than water because the alcohol by its nature had to be boiled and thus was cleaner. Beer was the…least undesirable choice in his mind.

  Fiorina nodded. “Of course.”

  “I’ll have that.”

  “Right away,” she replied before leaving the three in silence once again.

  “So…” Jason began, “can we speak of why I’m here?”

  Favio bowed his head. “But of course.”

  “Have you heard the news from Tar Ebon yet? About the king and queen dying and the siege beginning?”

  Favio nodded. “Whispers and rumors at first, but reports began coming in frequently enough that I took notice. Tis’ a tragedy.”

  “I was there,” Jason said, “as the queen died. It wasn’t pretty.” He cleared his throat, pushing the thought of the queen dropping dead in front of him out of his mind. “But the siege is why we are here. The new queen of Tar Ebon, the former Princess Coryn, has requested the aid of all the nations on this continent. She’s sent ambassadors to each of the nation’s requesting aid. She chose me to come here to request aid from the king of the Citadel.”

  “I thought as much, when you said Dawyn had sent you. It seems I remained here for a reason. What can I do to assist?”

  “Dawyn felt that you would have more knowledge of the political undercurrents here and could help with the negotiations. Would you mind helping?”

  “I would be happy to help,” Favio said.

  “That’s great,” Jason said as a knock came at the door and Fiorina entered with their drinks. Maybe, just maybe, they would be successful in the Citadel, Jason thought.

  Jason took a sip of his bear and winced at how bitter it was. Captain Gales took a big swig of whisky. Choking back the urge to gag, Jason asked “What can you tell us about the king or what do you think we need to know about here?”

  Favio pondered for a moment before speaking. “The king is a benevolent king, much loved by the people. He has ruled here for oh, thirty years. He maintains order within the walls of the Citadel and outside in the fields that feed this city. You may know that the knights of the Citadel are renowned for their prowess in battle. Their cavalry charges are told in legendary songs, including some of my own ballads.

  “The merchant families, though, are not so generous. There are seven families, you see, and they have bickered and fought amongst one another for centuries. They have many outposts around the known world, of which you may be familiar with the Crossroads, but the Citadel has always been their home. I would caution you not to trust them, Jason. They care for nothing but money and will not hesitate to stab anyone in the back to get what they want.

  “They maintain an uneasy peace amongst themselves, with no single family rising above the others, while also ostensibly bowing to the king of Tar Ebon as well. Pray we do not have to encounter them during your visit here.”

  “I will do what I must to save Tar Ebon, Favio. Even if that means making a deal with the devil,” Jason replied.

  Chapter 10

  “Your grace,” the plump nobleman standing before the throne, Sir Gregory Pelegrin, began, “I urge you to reconsider. Opening the stores to the peasants will only weaken our soldiers.”

  Coryn stared at the man for a moment, speechless. He spoke the word “soldiers” but it was clear he meant himself and the other nobles. By all appearances he had no problem with hunger. The audacity of him! “Sir Gregory, let me see if I understand you. You would have me keep the stores for the nobility and our soldiers and let the citizens of our great city die from starvation?”

  Sir Gregory’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Your grace, I would never…”

  “Yet that is exactly what you are proposing,” Coryn said, cutting him off. “To be clear,” she looked around the throne room, meeting the eyes of the other nobles gathered, “if we do not take care of our citizens then this city is not worth saving. Captain Galbraith will lead a force of guards into the city to gather as much food as possible. He will pay for this food and we will gather it here at the palace. Give every person a stipend of food each day so that we can make the food last as long as possible.”

  The nobles in the throne room began chattering in low voices at this proclamation. “Your grace,” came the voice of Lady Marie Navare as she replaced Sir Gregory, “there may be riots in the street if you make such a proclamation. People will not want their food taken, no matter how noble the cause.”

  “The alternative is letting people fight over the scraps of food that remain in the city. That will turn into a bloodbath, Lady Navare. There is already evidence of violence throughout the city over food, and it will only get worse as the hunger grows. The only way to stop this without our kingdom becoming a police state is to centralize the food distribution.”

  A dark expression crossed Lady Navare’s face before she replaced it with a condescending smile. “Of course, your grace. You know best. I will take my leave from you to coordinate the surrender of my own food stores to you.” She offered a shallow curtsy before turning and leaving, several noblewomen and handmaidens in tow.

  Coryn attempted to calm her breathing. The woman was insufferable! How dare she disrespect the queen of Tar Ebon in such a way? It had been but a day since the harbor gates closed and already the remaining nobles were making trouble for her. They were weaker houses, to be sure, but they could still cause any number of problems for her. Even before the siege began she found herself jumping at shadows and sleeping with her sword at her bedside, yet that night the danger she felt in the air seemed to grow.

  “You are dismissed,” Coryn said to the remaining nobles. Once the door closed behind the last noble, Coryn spoke to Captain Galbraith as he walked toward a side door. “Before you go, Captain, do you have anything to report on the situation outside?”

  Captain Galbraith turned stiffly toward her. “Much the same as yesterday, my queen. The Krai’kesh have settled in around the city. We have ordered the archers to cease firing to conserve arrows.”

  “Good,” Coryn said. She studied Captain Galbraith’s face. He kept his face neutral and his voice cool. Was he still angry about events at the docks? Who knew, but she couldn’t be constantly fighting with him. “I’m preparing to go to the walls to assess the situation. Would you…”

  “I’ll have a contingent of guards assigned to accompany you,” he cut her off. He offered a hasty bow and exited the room.

  Coryn blinked. What was that about? She shook her head. Men.

  Chapter 11

  “Calm down and go through it again,” Alivia said as she struggled to contain her impatience.

  “The morning magic history class is without an instructor. I went in there this morning and found the students acting like hooligans!” Valerie Henson exclaimed. She stood in front of the desk Alivia occupied in the office of the arch mage. “Not to mention that the halls are dusty, the food is cold and the students are running around at all hours of t
he day!”

  “I will find someone to teach the class, Ms. Henson,” Alivia replied. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we are short on staff at the moment, so dusty halls, cold food and children being children is expected for the time being.”

  Ms. Henson harrumphed. “Yes, well, if the arch mage were still alive…”

  “If,” Alivia said, giving Ms. Henson an icy glare. “If the arch mage were still alive, so too would be most of the other mages that went with him. The tower would be clean, the food would be hot and the students would keep in line. I am not in the business of considering alternate realities that can never exist.” She imagined her voice causing frost on the walls of the room. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to your concerns. Good day.”

  Ms. Henson stared at her for a moment, her mouth hanging open. She snapped it shut and left without a word of parting.

  Alivia leaned back in her chair. The task of managing the tower was becoming more arduous than she expected. As the rest of the city became antsy, so too had her fellow mages. The same mages who had studied their feet when asked if any among them would rise to the challenge and become acting arch mage were now criticizing the only mage willing to step up and don the mantle of command.

  Alivia’s thoughts wandered to the previous day and her attempts to strike the Krai’kesh. Somehow they magic could not affect them where they were. She recalled the crystal that had been placed near the front lines of the Krai’kesh. The crystal had to be the source of their protection, for her magic had worked just fine at the harbor, well away from the crystal. Her magic had also found its target in the Harren Woods months earlier when she helped fight a Krai’kesh warrior. The variable was the crystal.

  Without magic the city was out-manned and at the mercy of the Krai’kesh. Even if every soldier remaining in the city sallied forth to destroy the crystal, they would be overwhelmed by the Krai’kesh and likely fail.

  A book caught Alivia’s eyes on the shelf nearby. A History of the Founding the spine read. That was it. The legends spoke of the Founder fighting the Krai’kesh, long ago. Perhaps the ancient records spoke of how to fight them. She rose and took the book from the shelf, sat down, and began to read.