The Dragons' Legacy

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The Dragons' Legacy Page 23

by Dan Zangari & Robert Zangari


  * * * * *

  After several days Iltar and Cornar meet again to discuss their upcoming coup of the council. Both men talk quietly as they sit in Iltar’s cabin, in the same positions as they had in earlier visits. On the table is a sheet of parchment with a hand drawn depiction of the Necrotic Order’s council chamber. Various lines and circles are drawn on the floor plan, indicating positions for the attackers.

  Iltar sits in his bed near the table, memorizing the diagram and carefully tracing it with his finger.

  “I believe this plan of attack will minimize the casualties on our end,” Cornar says as he leans back against the wall and closes his eyes briefly.

  “You look tired, my friend,” Iltar remarks as he looks up from the table. “We will be near Soroth tomorrow, you should relax the remainder of the day.”

  Chuckling, Cornar responds, “It’s not like I will be doing much when we arrive.” The warrior looks at his friend across the table with one opened eye. The other is closed but twitches from exhaution.

  “All that remains is planting the evidence,” Iltar continues as he looks at his friend. “Do Kalder and Tilthan know their parts?”

  “Kalder does, but I figured I’d let you tell Tilthan.” Cornar leans forward from the wall and pushes himself away from it. “I’ll grab both of them.”

  With a grunt, Cornar heaves himself up from his seat and exits the room, leaving Iltar alone. The necromancer muses over their plot, a twisted smile forming on his face. Soon, I will have control over the Order and freedom to search for the amulet and the tethering stone.

  Several minutes later, Cornar, followed by Kalder and Tilthan, walk into Iltar’s quarters. With the four of them, the small cabin becomes cramped and almost intolerable.

  “Okay,” Tilthan breathes deep and rubs his hands together, “Who am I killing?”

  “There is a slight change in plans my thieving friend,” Iltar says from the bed, his leg stretched across it to allow enough room for the others to stand. “According to Cornar’s strategy, you and Kalder will execute the most vital part of this usurping. No one is to know the actual truth. That includes anyone on board that’s not in this room,” Iltar pauses and opens his palm out in front of him.

  Without incantation, a swirling black mist of magic forms into a globe that hovers over his relaxed hand. It glows with a deathly light, and small clouds of black dissolving dust swirl within the magic. The magic gives off a sense of dread that knots the other men’s stomachs; even Cornar can feel it.

  “If either of you tell the real truth,” a severe glower crosses his face as he looks at them, “You will endure a very painful existence with one of these eating away at your body.”

  “Umm,” Tilthan interrupts, “The less I know the better, just tell me what to do and I’ll forget it. Don’t even tell me why I’m doing it either!”

  “I’m as loyal to you as Cornar, Master Iltar,” Kalder stoically states. “I would never betray you.”

  “Good. If you want to know the reasons behind this, Kalder, you can ask Cornar. He’ll tell you something that we haven’t told the others, nor do we plan to. And Tilthan, if you hint to the others that what we have said concerning the council and our initial mission are not completely accurate, you will die.”

  “I’ve heard nothing you said,” Tilthan shakes his hands in front of his chest, “I’m not even here right now.”

  “Now for your task,” Iltar closes his hand and the globe of darkness vanishes, the magic sinking back into his pores. Motioning to the chest at the edge of the bed, Iltar adds, “In there are five red scroll cases and two old books. They will need to be planted in Alacor’s chambers in the Order’s main hall. The two of you will stay with the ship while the others leave in the small boats. Kenard will pilot the ship and dock, and then you will disembark. Tilthan,” Iltar looks at the thief, “You will need to take one of your friend’s cloaks for Kalder.”

  The thief nods in the affirmative while Iltar continues.

  “Both of you will be guided to his chambers in the guild hall. While the rest of us are dealing with the council, the two of you will make sure the evidence is secured. You will need to re-lock the doors, but you’re good at that Tilthan, I don’t have to tell you,” Iltar’s eyes narrow at the thief. “Once the others are off the Farling, you will come get the scrolls and books; they’ll be the only things left in this room. Now go, and don’t fail me.”

  Without a word, the two warriors and thief clear out of the room and leave Iltar alone.

  The necromancer turns in the bed and adjusts himself, staring at the ceiling. His mind races over the texts he has immersed himself in the last four days.

  The books held no trace of an organization that would have been trusted intimately by the dragons. Iltar closes his eyes and slows his breathing; trying to let go of his frustrations, letting the gentle sway of the ship put him to sleep.

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