by D C Ware
“Actually that is not all Oxley told me. He said you two had found a buyer for the compass.”
“Figures. It’s not like I was not going to tell you but I wanted to wait until it was sold first. I don’t even know how much this buyer is going to be willing to pay for it.”
“And he told me you are supposed to meet these ‘buyers’ at the peer at the port?”. This time Maverick’s voice was more a question than a statement. As he gave Lyla a “you know better” look.
“It’s at three o clock Maverick. There will be a ton of people and ships and boats out at that time. Besides Oxley is going to be with me. That’s what I am paying him for.”
“You’re paying Oxley? To protect you?” Maverick paused and gave Lyla a half smile.
“He didn’t tell you that right. Again that figures. Since when have you and Oxley been bar mates. I think he told you so that you would come along and keep him from actually having to earn his two gold pieces.”
“Two gold pieces for that fat son-of-a-lumberjack to follow you to Zafton? He would of done it for two silver pieces.”
“Well I was in a hurry and you had more important things to do.” Lyla was getting defensive. She rose from the cot and pulled her knapsack over to her and started taking out the elven armor she had taken from her father’s trunk. She had not worn it during the trip from Milestill and had not worn it walking around town the last two days. But now, with Maverick’s suggestion that the buy might go bad, she intended to wear it under her clothes like she had planned to do when she brought it.
“Hold on now,” said Maverick. “That’s why I came up. I’m going to go to this buy for you. The compass is half mine and you did your part finding a buyer so now it’s my turn. I will conclude the sell.”
Lyla stopped dressing, sat back down and looked at Maverick for a second. She wanted to protest and tell Maverick that his being there instead of her might scare off Gilbo. But from what she could make of Gilbo she knew that was not true. That ‘innkeeper’ had been involved in transactions a lot more profitable than this one was going to be.
“Okay. I really don’t feel well.”
“Why don’t you take one of those healing potions you got in that knapsack?” Maverick said as he stood and helped Lyla lie back down and covered her with the burlap blanket that came with the cot.
“I only brought three. I was saving them for the trip home in case me and Oxley had to cut through the Swallowing Swamps. But if the sell goes well I will take one so I will have the strength to leave in the morning.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Maverick asked half in jest as he opened the door to the room to leave.
“Then I will save them for you.” Then Lyla closed her eyes and was asleep.
Swift had made good time since departing Sir Ebros. He had already been to Morsh Monastery where he was told Father Wilmont had already heard the news and was traveling to Kings Castle.
Now he was less than a day outside of Futuretown. Where no doubt word would have reached them as well if the rumor had truly been started by Morcai something Swift was starting to question.
He had been thinking more and more of the Nemesis Knight’s attack on his party and of The Ferret being employed by Fire Castle. If Morcai had really started the rumor and knew the king was away why wasn’t he acting faster. To this point everything he had done evidenced caution. Something that would not favor Morcai if he was trying to seize the throne before the king returned.
Even the Nemesis Knights that had attacked them were too small a force to have overcome any true knights of the land no less a Bane Knight. And where was Heymann Oathbreaker the leader of the Nemesis Knights. Wherever he was would be where Morcai’s true intentions could be found.
But to this point. It appeared to Swift that Morcai was only probing. He had as many doubts about the king’s death as everyone else. He was gathering news and information like all the mayors were doing.
“By the One!” Swift muttered and stopped his horse. He had finally realized who The Ferret’s target was. Or to put it more correctly “what” The Ferret’s target was.
If Morcai needed to know if the king were indeed dead or at least concealing himself in the realm, he would need to do something short of war that would force him out. He would need an event or a disaster that would make all in the kingdom ask “Where is the King?”
The Ferret had not been sent to kill a specific person, he had been sent to kill a lot of people. To manufacture a disaster that the king, if he lived, could not ignore!
The Ferret did not like delaying his plans but the only thing more important than completing a mission for him, was not being caught afterward. That is how he had earned his nickname. Because he did most of his work between the hours of dawn and dusk like a ferret. But this job would be different. He needed to maximize the results and that would require striking when it was most crowded or most busy. As a result he also needed to take special precautions to secure his escape and the first of which was making sure he did not have a Bane Knight on his tail.
Few knew of this place he was visiting. One could not simply come here and knock on the door. Its occupant already knew he was outside even before he reached the door. The Ferret did not like wizards but he respected them and even feared them. Morcai knew this before he hired him. He smiled as a bit of irony came to him. He had been hired by a wizard to do this job and now he was hiring a wizard to help him do the job.
Hiring a wizard was not easy and was not cheap. Only Morcai or the king could pay The Ferret what he was earning for this job to make it feasible enough for him to employ the help of a mercenary wizard.
The door opened on its own. A voice came to The Ferret’s head. ‘Come in assassin.’
The room was in shadows. Not quite dark but only the hint of light here and there. In one corner by a fireplace where only embers still burned a large man in dark robes with long dark hair down to his shoulders spoke. It was Nebular Kane.
“Why have you come assassin? How can I be of assistance to you?”
“Kane I am being pursued by a Bane Knight.” The Ferret got right to the point. There was no sense in wasting time. This excursion was delay enough.
“A knight of the land. One of the king’s chosen no less. You must be getting paid very well to assume you could pay my price for such a task.” Kane did not move or get up. He sat with his fingers locked and his hands on his knees of his crossed legs.
“I can afford it. Five hundred gold if he is delayed for the next three days. Completely delayed not just slowed down. One thousand gold if he is delayed permanently.” The Ferret produced some gold leaf paper currency from the Kingdom of Ryder on the Continent of Men. Men such as he dealt in all kinds of currency and when doing a job it was always best to use the most distant currency you could find (and others would accept) to conceal your presence.
“What terrible task has Morcai set you to? That he would pay you such a sum?” Kane stood.
The Ferret knew there was no use in lying about who had employed him since it was obvious even to Kane that only Morcai or the King could pay such a sum and the king employed his own assassins.
“Nothing that will affect you Kane. Now you have the proposal and the price. Do you accept?” The Ferret stood still and tried to look the mercenary wizard in his eyes. If Kane chose to attack him there was nothing he could do anyway.
“I will see to this Bane Knight. If he still pursues you. If not then I will see to whoever does. For three days only.”
The Ferret left the notes, one thousand gold worth. Wizards were not the type that you asked for change.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Repercusions
Hugo liked working in the market plaza. It was a long narrow alleyway of shops nestled between the main castle and the castle walls. There was room on either side against the wall and then against the castle for almost forty stalls. The space in between was a muddy path beaten out by the foot traffic that could accommodate two men abreast
. However, on a typical day, from the entrance to the plaza by the west tower; to the end by the moat, over two hundred people would move through and in this space.
Hugo worked at his father’s stall selling wooden buttons that his mother made at home. They sold eight for a silver piece or three for one copper piece. Today had been a good day as the annual fair was only a month away and all the staff and households of the castle were repairing and making new clothes.
Hugo was making his way back to his father’s stall but could not make any progress due to the crush of the crowds. At the rate he was going it would take him another half hour to reach the stall and by then they would be tolling the bell to close the castle gates sending all those who worked in the castle scurrying back behind its walls. He needed to get this last pouch of buttons to his father before that happened.
With some effort Hugo was able to work his way over to the main castle and get down on his hands and knees and start crawling along its length toward his father’s stall. It was disgusting as the ground was littered with rotten food, animal feces (and some human), trash and rats. But he was making better time navigating through the shoppers and vendors legs and sometimes around stalls or carts. At this pace he would make it to his father’s stall in less than half the time it would have took him walking.
Zig zagging here and there Hugo kept noticing something black out of the corner of his eye. At first he thought it was old oil that had been poured out by one of the meat pie makers. But as he moved closer to it he could see that it was actually the type of oily tar used by the castle guards that his friend Ebin had told him about. Pausing to follow the trail of oil Hugo could see that it ran the length of the alleyway. Looking across the path to the outer castle wall he could see it running the length of the alleyway along that side as well.
Just as he was about to stand up a booted foot appeared in his face. “You’re a nosy little runt aren’t you son.”
He saw the boot go back and then all went dark.
Nebular Kane was thinking. Delaying a Bane Knight was one thing. Killing one was another. If it were at all possible to delay the knight he would prefer that. He intended to keep the money irrespective. Only if the knight could not be sufficiently delayed would he begin preparations for a more permanent solution.
For the time being it was necessary to ascertain who the knight was that was following the assassin and if he was still in pursuit. The wizard could determine both of those easily, with some help.
Releasing a simple ward he sent a call out to a bat-like creature called a Gargoyle. The wizard waited more or less patiently. Within ten minutes there was the sound of flapping wings and the thud of a large creature landing.
Before him stood a creature of lore. Smaller in frame and stature than imagined by the Renaissance artist of earth who had carved their images upon the parapets of cathedrals but otherwise resembling those effigies in every way.
The Gargoyle did not speak and neither did Kane. Kane walked past it without acknowledging it as he went to retrieve a parchment. Fetching a quill nearby he wrote on it in a language unknown to all but the most powerful wizards like himself. The creature followed Kane across the room with its head but still did not move.
Finally, Kane handed the creature the document he had written as well as a silver tablet he removed from the pocket of his robe. The Gargoyle read the missive, dropped it and with a leap flew out the open window it had come through.
Kane unclenched his fist and let the simmering fireball he had summoned dissipate. He took a drink of brandy from an open flask on his cluttered desk. Sat down in the leather armchair he kept in a corner of the chamber obscured in shadow and let out a sigh. Wizard or not some creatures were best not trusted. Especially those that at one time served the church.
For now though, as he watched the parchment he had wrote on dissolve into dust where the Gargoyle had dropped it, he was confident the creature would spy out this Bane Knight if he were still within the forest and return with news of whether his course still indicated that he pursued the assassin.
After that, Kane would handle the rest himself.
Lord Aranrood had Vandrel walk with him. The two of them walked down a long white hall with white oak flooring and white washed stone walls. Vandrel did not speak as he expected Lord Aranrood to take him to a room where they could talk. Instead they just kept walking and eventually it seemed to Vandrel that the hall never seemed to end. As they walked the distance neither increased or decreased. Finally, Lord Aranrood spoke.
“Before we get to why you have come wizard. I have two questions for you.”
“My lord?”
“The first is how much do you know of me?”
“I know that you are king of your people here. I know that you brought them here during a time of great troubles when this land needed them. And I know that you have paid a high price for your heroism.”
“You know much wizard. But what of this ‘price’ do you speak?”
“Of your lady, of course. My lord”
Lord Aranrood stopped walking and stared blankly ahead. Him and Vandrel both were silent for a long time. Finally, Lord Aranrood spoke again.
“My second question Vandrel is this. Do you have the ring with you now?”
Vandrel paused this time, placing his hand against the flap in his robes where he kept the ring. He began to second guess himself and having come here. This “hall of walking” had clearly shown him that he was unfamiliar with the power of this place. Had the elven king obtained the ring without his knowing? It was still there. He parted his lips to speak but before he did, Lord Aranrood spoke again.
“On second thought, I think it would be best for the both of us if you did not answer that question wizard.” Lord Aranrood looked Vandrel directly in his eyes. Small flames burned in his pupils and subsided.
“Even so, elven king.” Vandrel whispered.
“Good. Then let us talk of why you have come. You wish to know of The Lady. Do you not?”
“Is she afoot, my lord. Have you received a vision of her.” Vandrel asked once more recalling why he had come.
“Yes and no. Yes she is afoot. My scouts tell me as much. No I have not had a vision of her. Yet.” Lord Aranrood replied.
“But why? Why has The Lady come from the Darklands once more into these realms?” Vandrel stopped walking.
“That much is certain Vandrel. She has come because she is The Harbinger of the coming of The Weapons of Power. And of the king that will wield them all.”
“Captain Heymann, tell your master Morcai that I have accepted his invitation to Fire Castle but that I will not enter Fire Castle. I have pitched my pavilion just outside the castle walls. I will remain here for two days and one night. If your master desires my counsel then he will pay me a visit before those two days and one night are up.”
“I will tell him my lady. And until my return I have charged my lieutenant, Sir Dubois to stand guard over your person.”
“I assure you Captain with Friar Damian and the Sons of Cain that is wholly unnecessary.”
“Nonetheless, I have so charged him my lady.” Captain Heymann saluted and rode off followed by three of his men at arms.
Lady Gabriel signaled to her carriage driver to take her to her pavilion. Sir Dubois followed behind.
Once at the pavilion, Sir Dubois dismounted and helped her down from her carriage. He walked her to the door of the pavilion.
“I will be close by my lady. Just yell if you have need.”
“That is kind of you knight. But unnecessary. “
“As you say my lady.”
“Yet knight?”
“My lady?”
“If you would serve me…see that I am not disturbed.”
“You will not be my lady.”
“Not by anyone, Sir Dubois. And that includes the friar. Agreed?”
“Agreed my lady.”
“Then I wish you a good afternoon my good knight.”
The Lady
threw off her shawl and dropped down onto the large pillows lining the floor of her pavilion. It had been an arduous ride through the forest, especially for her. Unknown to all who traveled with her (perhaps with the exception of Friar Damian) she had ‘warded’ off no less than three separate attacks intended for the party. Such exertion of her power drained her but usually only nominally so. Yet this time, the last such attack was particularly powerful. She was not sure if the Gargoyle actually intended to attack the party or if it sought merely to spy on them but the etheral power binding it to its mission belonged to a wizard of significant power. She had tried to follow its ley lines back to its source but whoever was controlling the Gargoyle had taken the time to cross them before dispatching it. In time she could have reacquired the path to the source but she was not inclined to spend the power to do so and had simply repelled the Gargoyle in another direction. The other two attacks came from the sheoguy forest itself and originated from what men called ‘the world of the fey’.
Yet as she laid here, The Lady knew it was not just the woods that had exhausted her. It was being in this realm in and of itself. The longer she stayed the less of her power she would have access to. It was imperative that she ascertain the meaning of her coming as soon as possible. If she had misread The Oracle then she had put much at risk. And if she had not then her time was coming to an end anyway in this realm or her own. Which was the only reason she had agreed to meet with Matthew. Unlike many in this land he was easy to read. Evil men always were. They could hide their intentions but not their desires. Whatever Matthew knew, she would know and that might be the end game in and of itself. Because if he had set these events in motion, and he was the cause of her dreams of war; then he would die!
“Are you the one they call Granger Greyhound?”
Granger and Maddox looked up from their table at the tavern. The man was clearly a hunter. From his weapons and dress he was probably from Wooddam. Across from him Granger could see three of his companions seated together at a table.