“You use the hook to pull knights off their horses,” Stone said, demonstrating how the weapon worked. “And the blade is self-explanatory.”
The boy looked impressed.
“Get them all laid out where we can see them,” Stone instructed. “I need to check the battlements before we lose the daylight.”
Stone went back to the gates. They were heavy, but hung on well-oiled hinges. He pushed one and could barely move it, but the door slowly moved forward. There were large, metal hooks on the back side of the gates made for holding large beams of wood that would secure the gate. Stone found three wooden beams, and several support beams which he guessed would be used for propping against the wooden gate doors to give it added strength. There was a set of stone steps on the side of the thick, gatehouse wall. Stone climbed up and found a wide parapet along the wall, with thick stone crenulations on the outer edge. Everything on the main gate side of the castle looked to be in good working order.
There were baskets of stones, and iron braziers at regular intervals, as well as barrels lined with burlap for holding extra weapons. Stone went slowly around the castle wall, looking for any signs of weakness, but the battlements were strong and in good working order. If the Leffers had attacked the castle walls, there was no sign of it. On each of the four sides he found a set of narrow stone steps leading down to the courtyard around the castle. He could envision a couple men on the ground near the steps using the long pikes to trip enemies that had breached the walls and were trying to get to the castle.
It was almost dark when Stone returned to his two volunteers.
“Almost as many pikes as spears,” said one of the men.
“Good, there are barrels on the walls. I want you to put ten spears in each one,” he explained. “Put them in with the blades down. Then put in ten of the pikes, with their blades sticking up. You understand?”
“Yes sir,” both men said.
“Get busy,” he ordered. “Then join us in the castle.”
Stone went up the wide stone steps that led to the castle entrance. He could already smell food cooking and his stomach growled. He hoped Vera and Vanz had found something good to eat. He liked the little corn cakes that the cook had made, but he was growing tired of them too. He hoped they might find some meat and perhaps a little ale to wash it down with.
Stone didn’t go into the long feasting hall, but instead wound his way through the long corridors until he found a spiral staircase. The steps were polished stone, worn smooth from years of constant use. He jogged up the stairs, ignoring the wide landings he passed as he moved higher and higher. He was out of breath when he finally came to a door at the top of the staircase. He unhooked the leather thong that held the door closed and stepped out into the last rays of sunlight. He was high above the city, high enough to see over the city walls and view the land around the castle for miles and miles.
He was relieved to see that nothing was moving. He had been afraid of what he might find looking out over the kingdom, but it was a tranquil night. There were two of the tall lookout towers. He and Lorik would need to station men in each around the clock, but at least they had time to eat and make preparations before the witch’s army arrived.
He made his way back down the winding steps of the tower. When he finally reached the bottom, he was tired and the castle was dark. He had to move slowly through the darkened rooms and corridors in an effort find his way back to the feasting hall. When he arrived, he found most of the volunteers loitering around the huge hearth where a bright fire was casting warm rays of light around the huge space.
Lorik sat on one of the long tables, but Stone thought he would have looked more at home on the king’s throne.
“What a bunch of lollygaggers,” Stone called as he walked into the room.
“What did you find?” Lorik asked.
“Weapons, lots of them,” Stone said as he sat down across from his friend. “We’ve got enough spears for every man to have almost ten each, and pikes to keep any of the devils from climbing the walls.”
“Good, how are the battlements?”
“In good order,” Stone said. “As good as you could hope for.”
“No weaknesses?”
“None, it doesn’t look like the monsters attacked the castle walls. Or the castle itself, for that matter. I was just up in one of the high towers. The roof is intact on the castle.”
“It’s mostly stone,” Lorik said. “I guess they can’t break through that as easily as thatch.”
“No,” Stone agreed. “We’re in a good place. It’s very strong, even though we don’t have enough men to really defend it. I didn’t see any movement for miles around the city. The view from the tower is impressive.”
“We’ll need men up there,” Lorik said.
“I thought the same thing. But at least we have a little time to get ourselves ready. What did you find?”
“Nothing,” Lorik said. “We had to build a fire; it was dark and there were no torches. I found the dungeon, so you’ll have a place to sleep tonight.”
“Nice,” Stone said.
“But we didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. We’ll have to keep looking. I’m certain there must be some type of escape route.”
“There normally is, but it’s hidden for a reason,” Stone said.
“I should have asked Issalyn.”
“Oh, what happened to Queen Issalyn? You sound like you’re getting pretty friendly.”
Lorik ignored him.
“She probably wouldn’t have known anyway,” Stone said. “It didn’t sound like King Oveer had much to do with her other than trying to make babies.”
“It doesn’t help for you to bring up the king’s efforts with Issalyn,” Lorik said.
“Oh, come on. You’re no innocent, believe me, I know.”
“What has Vera been telling you?” Lorik demanded.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“You’re a nosy bastard,” Lorik said.
“But I’m handsome,” Stone crowed.
Lorik took a playful swipe at his friend, who ducked and leaned away from the table.
“Play nice,” Vera said, as she came into the room with a large tray of food. It was mostly vegetables, some steamed, others sautéed in a creamy sauce. There was bread and crocks of butter, fruit jams in big jars, and then Vanz brought out pitchers of wine.
The volunteers hurried over the table and soon everyone was eating and talking. Stone made sure there was two plates heaping with food, and a loaf of bread set aside for the men who had been helping him with the weapons. They came in late, just as Vyrnon was heading out with a basket of food and a small pitcher of wine. Lorik had given the man orders to move their horses out, away from the city. He wanted them north of Ort City, beyond the sprawling ghetto of mud huts, animal pens, and shacks that surrounded the walled capital.
Lorik ate quickly and then left Stone in charge. He had volunteered to take the first watch. He took one of the brass lamps, trimmed the wick and then left the feasting hall.
“He seems like he has the world on his shoulders,” Vera said softly to Stone.
“I suppose he thinks he does. He takes his responsibility very seriously.”
“I wish he would relax a little. We’re in no danger tonight, are we?” she asked. “I feel a little odd being in this huge castle all alone, but it’s better than being out in the open. I feel safer.”
“Yes, this is better,” Stone said. “But we can’t get too comfortable. I don’t like the idea of us getting trapped here.”
“Well neither do I, but I don’t mind having something decent to eat and a bed to sleep in that’s up off the ground.”
“Speaking of beds,” Stone said with a grin. “I’m requesting a private room.”
“Well, then,” Vera said, with a smile of her own. “I’m requesting that you take a bath.”
Chapter 13
Lorik climbed the stairs slowly. His body didn’t get tired the wa
y it once did after a long day, but his mind was weary. He couldn’t stop thinking about Queen Issalyn. Her face seemed to appear in his mind whenever he closed his eyes and it was becoming harder and harder not to forsake his mission and race north just to be with her.
He let his hand slide along the smooth, cold, stone walls of the tower. He appreciated anything that was built well, and the royal castle in Ort City was the finest building he’d ever seen. Yet it was nothing but a stone box compared to the wonderful tree cities he’d seen in the Wilderlands. The Drery Dru didn’t build as much as they nurtured the tree to grow how they needed it. The result was a harmony of the tree’s strength and the Drery Dru’s needs. It made Lorik realize just how much humanity still had to learn and how much he could learn from the forest elves. He wanted so badly to show Issalyn the wonders of the Drery Dru, but he couldn’t turn his back on the deadly threat that was marching toward him. The people he’d worked so hard to save from the Norsik now faced an even greater threat, and he couldn’t ignore it.
When he reached the top of the tower, he was surprised at how close the sky looked. The clouds had blown away late in the afternoon and the night was bitterly cold. The stars were fierce dots of cold light, the moon a mere sliver of ghostly gray. The light from the stars seemed to make the sky glow, but did little to illuminate the city below. As Lorik looked down into the city, he was reminded of the Wilderlands. It was pitch black along the streets and between the buildings in the same way that the great forest was so dark among the massive trunks of the great Redwood trees. The only difference was the lack of mist rising up through the city streets. When Lorik had first been in the Wilderlands, the mist had seemed ghostly and frightening, but since he climbed the King Tree, the mists had been like a secret friend, beckoning him through forgotten trails and leading him exactly where he needed to go.
I need the mist to help me find the king’s escape tunnel, Lorik thought. The entire group of volunteers had been unsuccessful in finding the secret route to safety that Lorik was sure must be there. If they couldn’t find it, he would lead them out of the city, despite the obvious military advantages.
He looked out across the dark countryside. It was too dark to make out anything, but he knew the enemy was coming. He could feel a deep sense of foreboding and he was sure it was from the witch’s army. He wished he could see the enemy, get a sense of their numbers. The Drery Dru had confirmed that the witch was mutating the men and woman captured by the Leffers, but Lorik had no idea what they were being transformed into. They could be horrible monsters, or something he’d never imagined before. It was difficult not knowing, and on top of it all was his desire to turn north and go after Queen Issalyn. He wanted to rush north, even though he didn’t know why. He told himself it was just a crush, but it was the strongest feeling he’d ever had.
Hours passed as Lorik leaned against the parapet, staring out into the darkness. There was only a few hours before dawn when Lorik finally turned and was shocked to see ghostly mist snaking along the stairway and through the open door that led back down into the tower. The mist hadn’t come out onto the tower as far as Lorik stood, but as soon as he stepped forward the white, glowing vapor began to move as well. It flowed in front of Lorik like a slow moving river and he followed it instinctively.
He hated to leave his post, it went against the discipline of finishing what he started that his father had drilled into him as a boy, but it was too dark to see anything. Having men awake through the night would only make them less efficient come morning.
The mist moved almost rhythmically, so that Lorik got the impression the mist was dancing. He didn’t know where it had come from, but it seemed to be leading him in the same way that the mist in the Wilderlands did. Lorik thought about what the Drery Dru had told him about magic, how it would be attracted to him. He tried to feel the mist, hoping that it would not be cold and menacing. There was no physical sensation from the white vapor, it was even less tangible than fog. But it didn’t seem menacing either; instead it seemed playful. Whatever it was, and whatever had conjured it, Lorik believed it was good.
The fog led him back down through the maze of rooms and past the glowing embers of the fire he had lit in the royal dressing room. Eventually he was led down into the dungeon, and this time he could feel a sense of something dark from a hidden doorway that he hadn’t seen on his first trip through the castle. The mist surrounded the hidden door, and glowed around the tiny cracks in the stone that outlined the edges of the passage. Lorik stopped and studied the door, even putting a hand on it. The castle was cold, the stone walls were all cold to the touch, but the door sent a shiver of fear down Lorik’s back. The mist didn’t stop at the door, instead it seemed to beckon him away, like a child trying to keep their parents’ attention.
Lorik turned away from the hidden door, not sure what lay beyond it. His mind was divided, as he followed the mist through the long corridor of empty cells. He kept thinking of the hidden door and wondering if perhaps that was the passage to the king’s escape route. But if it was, why had it seemed so cold and menacing, he wondered. There was something deep inside the castle that was evil. It tempted Lorik, the darkness called to him, and although Lorik was afraid, he was also curious. Some part of him longed to discover whatever lay on the other side of that doorway.
He shook his head and tried to focus on the mist, which was fading. Lorik didn’t know if the sun was rising or if he was imagining everything he had seen. He pinched himself, thinking for a moment that perhaps it was all just a dream, but he was awake. The mist led him back to the store room, the same dead end he’d found with Vyrnon earlier in the day. He sighed in frustration as the mist swirled weakly around his feet.
He was just about to turn around and go back when he noticed the mist seemed to be slipping between a large wooden chest, with bands of iron, and a tall wardrobe that had seen better days. The wardrobe was nicked and scratched, the fine workmanship was blunted from years of use. There was nothing about anything in the room that would normally attract attention, but the mist was moving, disappearing between the two pieces of furniture.
He stepped over to the chest and looked down. He tried to slide the chest away from the wardrobe, but it wouldn’t budge. He squatted and looked closer. The mist revealed that something was there, but didn’t give enough light for Lorik to see more than just shadowy outlines. He squinted in the darkness, but couldn’t see anything that would reveal the secret of the room. He pushed on the wardrobe but it too was solid and unmoving. He frowned. If the items in the storage room had been put there just to have them out of the way, he should be able to move them, at least a little bit. He pulled on the wardrobe door, but it didn’t open. He looked closer but there was no lock, or even a latch holding the door closed. Nothing about the room made sense, but he needed more light and perhaps a little help.
As Lorik stood up, the final few wisps of mist disappeared into the crack between the chest and the wardrobe. Lorik was in total darkness. He needed to get back upstairs where he could light a fire and get a lamp or torch to illuminate the storage room. He was hopeful that perhaps the secret route out of the castle was hidden behind the assembled junk in the storage room, but the oppressive darkness was choking that hope.
He moved forward slowly, sliding his feet and reaching out with his hands. It took a moment to find the doorway to the storage room. The door jamb felt solid and Lorik felt better. He knew that the dungeon corridor lay ahead, and beyond that the stairs that would take him up to the main level of the castle.
It took longer than he thought it would to traverse the dungeon corridor, and the closer he came to the hidden door, the more difficult the journey became. He felt an overwhelming sense of fear, as if some dark, malevolent force was watching him in the darkness. Eventually his hand touched the side wall, and he felt a shiver run up his arm. A voice spoke in his mind.
Come to me.
Lorik wanted to run, but he was rooted to the spot. The darkness felt
tangible around him, like a mob of people holding him in place.
Open the door and come to me.
“No,” Lorik said.
You cannot refuse me.
“I won’t,” Lorik said, fighting to control his fear.
Then a new sensation washed over Lorik. It was the feeling of power and it made him giddy for just a moment. In the darkness he could see an image of himself sitting on a tall throne, with hundreds of people bowing down to him.
Come to me.
He hesitated.
Do not resist my power.
Lorik’s hand slid over the stones and he knew he was standing in front of the secret doorway. Instinctively he knew that if he pushed on it, the door would open.
Open the door and come to me.
Lorik felt himself leaning toward the door.
“No,” he said again, remembering the admonition that Rolwyn had given him. He knew that if he gave in to the darkness beyond the doorway, it would dominate him.
Open it now! the voice ordered.
Lorik felt his resolve slipping. He knew that if he lingered, he wouldn’t be able to resist the dark magic behind the door. He forced his foot backward and then took a step away.
Don’t leave me here.
Another step back.
Let me give you my power.
Lorik hesitated.
I can overcome the witch’s army.
Lorik felt the temptation rise up again. If he allowed the magic behind the door to fill him, he would be more powerful than the witch. He would be more powerful than the wizard Zollin. He could bring order and peace to the Five Kingdoms.
Then his own thoughts turned darker. He could rule the Five Kingdoms. He would be all powerful and no one could stop him. The idea was so enticing, he almost took a step backward. He was just thinking of how he could make Issalyn love him, when he realized he didn’t want to make her love him. He didn’t want to force her to do something against her will. He shook his head and the voice beckoned once more.
Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) Page 11