Sunset of Lantonne

by Jim Galford

  The older wizard led Therec off the walls and into the keep proper. They walked for a long time, heading steadily down until Therec was sure that they were well beneath the ground. As they went, the ornate furnishings of the keep gradually gave way to simpler servants’ quarters and then to bare stone halls that echoed eerily.

  Soon, Kinet came to a stop in a dimly-lit section of hall, just past a group of heavily-armed soldiers who were standing guard.

  “Every cell past here has someone we’ve captured,” Kinet explained. “I have no desire to see them. If I do, I’ll want to burn them all. I lost a lot of people I knew out there.”

  Walking on alone, Therec came to the first set of doors, one on each side of the hallway. He checked one, then the other, finding several human men slumped against the walls inside. None of them so much as looked up, though Therec did note that the tattered remains of their clothing appeared Altisian in make. The men all had the look of soldiers rather than scholars. These were no necromancers.

  Frowning, Therec continued on, seeing much the same in each cell. A few elven and human men came to the bars of the cells to plead for their lives, but Therec mostly ignored them. Several had the look of wizards, though every one of them flinched and backed away from the door when they saw his face—likely the tattoos. Any necromancer would know of the Turessians and would likely have been overjoyed to see him, given their situation.

  Therec’s dismay grew with each cell, as there was no one that gave him the feel or even vague likelihood of being a necromancer. Humans, elves, halflings, an orc, and even a few wildlings were imprisoned here, but they all appeared to be commoners or soldiers. These people had not commanded a single undead, let alone a legion.

  Stopping at the last cell, Therec realized it was the first he had seen with women in it. Knowing the dislike the southern lands had for letting women engage in warfare, this caught his attention. Leaning close to the grating set into the heavy door, Therec studied the two women inside.

  One woman, wearing a mud-stained dress and sandals, lay on her back. She was clearly unconscious, with blood matting the side of her head and a greenish hue to her skin that hinted at illness. Therec studied the elven girl’s face a while, finally recognizing her as the girl he had confronted near the quarry and earlier on the wagon into town. She was certainly not Altisian, and after watching her try to fight, he knew she was no necromancer…and likely not very well-trained in any form of magic.

  The other woman made Therec even more annoyed. Vine-wrapped and clearly green-skinned, the fae-kin servant girl had been the topic of a conversation with Kinet all too recently. She stared up at Therec through the bars with angry green eyes, accusing him.

  “Dalania, I believe you said?” he asked. “How did you come to be here?”

  Glaring all the more, the woman pulled a piece of paper from a section of vines and leaves along her side. “You got me my papers and supposed freedom,” she practically spat as she crumpled up the paper and threw it at the door. “They arrested me before I got past the quarry, claiming that I was an Altisian spy and my citizenship is revoked. Kinet’s orders, they say.”

  Therec glanced back up the hall to where Kinet stood talking with the guards. “You were told you would walk free under the laws set forth by your king and so you will,” Therec told her, placing a hand on the door. “Please stay away from the door.”

  Instead of moving farther from the door, Dalania shifted to shield the other woman.

  Therec called to the lost spirits, hearing the rush of whispers as they brought magic with them. This he brought together into strands he felt more than saw, the fibers of invisible energy tangling deeply into the wood and metal of the door. Once he felt the magic settle into the door under his hand, he flung his hand away, releasing the magic as he did so.

  With a crack that echoed through the hallway, the door shattered, sending wood and metal flying in all directions.

  Cries of alarm down the hall warned Therec that the guards were none too happy with what he had done, even before he could see them through the cloud of dust that filled the hall. Blind while the dust settled, he still felt the fae-kin woman attempt to push past him and he reached out, catching her by the elbow.

  “Kinet!” Therec barked, pulling Dalania toward the guards, who slowed at his approach. The wizard behind them was making a show of pretending to be surprised to see Dalania. “This woman was ordered free.”

  “I…I had no…” Kinet tried to say, but finally just gave up and shrugged. “She was caught near the quarry. We arrested everyone we found.”

  Therec stared down the guards, who nervously lowered their weapons slightly. For once, the fear his clothing and tattoos instilled was coming in handy.

  “She will be taken beyond the city and allowed to walk free wherever she chooses. I am not going to argue or ask anymore, Kinet. I do not like games and I do not intend to continue playing yours. If you keep trying to subvert law, I will speak with the king about having you executed along with the Altisian soldiers. I may not have the rights or authority that you do, but I suspect a threat is the only way you will listen.”

  Kinet gave a slight gesture to the guards and they stepped aside. In doing so, Therec saw that a group of servants had stopped farther up the hallway, carrying buckets of water and slop for the prisoners. The servants kept their heads down but were clearly listening to the discussion. While he dearly wanted word of Kinet’s actions to spread, his threat only mattered if there was still something for the man to hide.

  “Kinet,” Therec continued, lowering his voice, “when you know the king is searching for traitors, I advise being far smarter about your actions. This will be my last warning. If you run afoul of the law again, it will be the king making the decisions about your fate, not me. He may look the other way, but in the few minutes I have been around him, I would wager against that being the case.”

  Wincing ever so slightly, Kinet nodded and pointedly avoided looking at Dalania, who in turn stared intensely at him. She seemed to be waiting for him to try to weasel out of the promise of freedom and was more than eager to challenge him.

  “What of the other girl?” asked one of the guards. “She was caught in the same area.”

  Therec had no idea if the elven girl was a criminal or not, aside from her actions in saving the wildlings. In absence of facts, he leaned toward letting the soldiers and Kinet do whatever they felt was right, given his status as an outsider. It would not do to push his luck any more than he had. He was going to tell the guards to do as they saw fit, when he looked over the servants one more time.

  Among the formally-dressed servants were two elves, a human, and a tall wolf wildling that was making a point of trying to keep itself out of the light. Therec recognized it as the one that had accompanied Ilarra on the wagon ride from Hyeth. Judging by his behavior, he had come to check on her or free her.

  Smiling as a plan came to mind, Therec turned to Kinet. “I hold you personally responsible for ensuring the safety and security in this wing of the cells until I have time to find out the king’s wishes,” he told the magister. “If all prisoners are healthy and none escape, I might be willing to forget your previous actions.”

  Kinet bowed slightly, paling as though he knew just how far he had pushed Therec’s willingness to deal with him. Apparently, Therec had played his hand well, as neither Kinet nor the guards questioned the fact that he had no authority to enforce anything more than a general threat to tell the king about Kinet’s actions.

  To the guards, Therec added, “Kinet does not go near any female prisoners. Understood?”

  The four guards snickered and nodded, while Dalania smirked and Kinet’s face soured angrily. He was at least smart enough not to say anything.

  When there were no further questions, Therec motioned for Dalania to lead the way, which she seemed more than happy to do. She set a quick pace, making Therec wonder if she would run the moment they were outside of the prison wing of the keep. I
n his attempt to keep up with her, he barely had a chance to study the wildling “servant.”

  In passing, Therec had just a second to look over the towering wolf-man, confirming his earlier suspicion about who he was. The only difference from the last time Therec had seen him was a deep cut along one side of his head, as though he had been struck with a stone from behind. The wildling watched Therec with a warning glare, even with his head held low, possibly trying to scare Therec off of saying anything if he did recognize him.

  Once they were well past the servants, Therec smiled more openly, hoping he was done having to worry about Kinet. The wolf would do his work for him and likely run off with the girl, solving all issues Therec would have needed to be concerned about. There would be no reason to speak to the king about any of this, if the wolf was half as competent as the girl had believed him to be.

  It was not kind to put Kinet in that situation, but Turessian laws had always encouraged letting the morally-corrupt face the dangers of the world without help. This was not so very different, and Therec had found nothing in the Lantonnian laws to require him to act any other way. Had the laws stated that he must report the wildling, he would have, but without that requirement, Kinet was on his own.

  The remaining journey to the outside of the keep would have required Therec to stop multiple times to figure out where he was, but Dalania kept moving, staying well ahead of him as they came up into the main hall of the keep, then past the guards at the entrance. She did not stop once they were outside in the courtyard and maintained her pace until they had passed the inner walls of the city, leading them well into the outer city, surrounded by hundreds of milling people going in as many directions.

  Coming to a stop in the middle of the street, Dalania addressed Therec even without looking back at him. “Do you really intend to let me go?”

  He hesitated, trying to figure out why she would question him this far into his efforts. “I said I would let you go. My word tells much about who I am…why would I go back on it?”

  Turning in place, Dalania watched him for a while, as if trying to decide something. Finally, she stepped closer to him than she had been willing to get in the short time he had known her. Reaching up, she brushed his face with her hand, making him step nervously backwards, unsure of her intent.

  “You are a better man than most I’ve met,” she admitted, lowering her hand and smiling at Therec’s discomfort. “Tell your wife I said as much.”

  “Where will you go?”

  Dalania turned and gazed toward the west, smiling absently. “I’ll go where Kinet and his kind can never find me again. I’ll put myself as far into the wilds as I can manage, no matter the risk. I’d rather die there than ever be brought back here. It’s where I was raised and the place I know I can hide.”

  They stood there for several minutes, Dalania watching the western mountains longingly and Therec studying her for anything that might tell him more about the people of these lands. When she did look back at him, her face had softened in humble thanks.

  “You will not see me again,” she told him, reaching out to brush at the sleeve of his robes. “Take care of yourself. The men of these lands are unforgiving and will seek to destroy someone like you.”

  Before Therec could answer, Dalania turned and walked away, hurrying into the crowds of people and disappearing.

  Shaking his head at the strangeness of people so far south, Therec went back into the central city, making his way back toward the keep. There, the guards did not hesitate to open the gates for him, allowing him to maintain his pace toward the heart of the keep.

  Though he wanted nothing more than to return to his room and rest after the long day, Therec changed direction, taking a different staircase within the keep, passing multiple sets of guards as he went. He spiraled up the tower until he finally came to a simple door with two more guards waiting on either side.

  “May I enter?” he asked softly, not really expecting any refusal.

  The two guards waited a moment, as had been their habit the last time he had come to this part of the keep. When they finally did part, one pushed the door open and motioned him inside.

  Therec went through the door into the dimly-lit hallway beyond, no longer surprised by the door being shut and locked behind him. The first time he had come that had unnerved him, but that they did it this time again told him it was part of a routine.

  Rounding a corner, Therec entered the large bedroom with windows that opened onto the western plains and the mountains beyond. Lavish furnishings filled the room, including a canopied bed and a massive fireplace that remained lit at nearly all hours of the day or night, making the room stiflingly hot. The two guards stationed in the room appeared as uncomfortable with the heat as Therec was. Though the king had been evasive on the topic, Therec had gotten the impression that his health was not ideal and the heat somehow helped him.

  “Your Majesty?” Therec asked, looking around as he stopped at the entrance to the room. “It’s Turessi’s ambassador.”

  A few seconds passed before a door to Therec’s left opened. Coming in from his private dining chamber, the boy-king entered, watching Therec cautiously, as he had during the previous visit. The youth tried his best to look regal, but beyond his clothing, he had no idea how to accomplish that and ended up looking pompous instead. Therec’s initial impression had been poor, but the more time he had spent with the boy, the more Therec had come to realize that the pompous demeanor was hardly fitting of the boy.

  Kind Cinastin was a child by any standard of measurement. Lean but made to look stronger than he was through thick layering of clothing, the boy had the worry-lines of an older man already showing on his otherwise soft face. His short-trimmed hair and round face made Therec think of his own son, likely about the same age, though even the rigors of Turessi had done far less to Ourin than the stresses of ruling had done to Cinastin.

  From what little Therec knew of him, the boy had inherited the office from his father,. Unlike many lands Therec had studied, Lantonne’s throne tended to pass along to the person chosen by the old king, without specific regards to lineage. Less than a year prior, the elder king had died in an unfortunate fall from his horse, passing the throne to his childhood friend. Sadly, that man had already been fighting a fever that he never recovered from.

  Without a clear direction for the throne to pass, Lantonne had very nearly fallen apart as the noble families fought to position themselves to control the tower. By tradition, Cinastin would rule temporarily, but given his age, few had even considered him a contender. He had been ignored by the men and women vying for dominance over the city.

  The callous in-fighting of the noble families had allowed Cinastin to prove himself by making a public declaration that he would not rule without the approval of the people, and he would pass his crown to whoever they wished to take his place. The simple gesture had won over the populace, and in the city’s first-ever votes for who would rule, Cinastin had been the unquestionable victor. That had stopped most of the challenges in one act, something that Therec found to be impressive for a child, especially an uneducated barbarian from the southern lands. There were still many challengers in the shadows, but they could no longer speak openly. It was these challengers that he had heard rumors of, claiming that one or another might have actually poisoned the boy, causing his poor health to this day.

  “Thank you for coming,” King Cinastin told him, smiling half-heartedly. “The magisters briefed me on what happened. Are you alright?”

  Bowing, Therec answered, “As well as can be expected. You may thank Arlind for saving my life. I owe her quite the debt.”

  Cinastin laughed a little, shaking his head. “She will swear and complain for months if that is true,” he told Therec, then took a seat near the dark window. Normally, the king only saw visitors during the day, which would have silhouetted him at the window. It was something Therec had noticed the boy doing more than once, likely on the suggestion of his advi
sors to look more regal. “I am also told that without your help, our losses from the explosion would have been far greater.”

  “A kind over exaggeration, Your Majesty.”

  “Hardly. I hear it from more than one of my informants, so I take it as being likely truth.”

  The boy thought a moment and then motioned towards the guards, who quickly left the room, closing the door behind them. Cinastin waited another minute before continuing.

  “Tell me your honest thoughts on my city, ambassador.”

  Therec’s mind raced with options of how to reply, pinpointing those replies that would cause distrust or disbelief. Those he put aside immediately and instead answered, “You have a city that rivals the wonder of any I have ever…”

  “I did not ask you to grovel like one of the magisters,” Cinastin cut in. “I trust your word because you have no reason to lie to me. Cover your words with honey and I will consider you no better than the others.”

  Smiling at the bluntness of the boy, Therec bowed and said, “Your city respects you and your rule, but those in charge still scheme for power where they can find it. This is not unique to this city. I am guessing this is what you wanted to know?”

  “Precisely, ambassador. You read people differently than my best advisors and are more open with what you are willing to say, even if I have to push a little to get it. Right now, that is precisely what I need.”

  “You seek traitors?” asked Therec, stifling a smile when Cinastin’s eyes widened in surprise. “As you said, I read people.”

  “I see why your people are heralded as being dangerous.”

  “This is not the reason such things are said, Your Majesty. It is simply a different training than your advisors receive.”

  Nodding, the king’s attention darted to the door when the heavy wood frame creaked. Once he had become satisfied that no one was about to enter, he told Therec, “We have a traitor, that much I know. Three months ago, a contingent of my soldiers left without warning, supposedly escorting an ambassador. They have not returned, but there are indications that the attack at the quarry used stolen magical tools that no one in Eldvar should have access to other than the dwarves and the magisters.”