The Dragons' Legacy
Page 40
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Later that evening, four of the five men involved in the Necrotic Order’s overthrow all sitting in the upper bedroom of Cornar’s city manor.
Hex enters last, saying, “Sorry I’m late. I was just giving Kenard instructions for our next trip.”
“No matter, my friend, sit down,” Iltar calls out from the window sill he had sat on in their first and subsequent meetings. This was their fourth meeting since the day of the magical revolution. “What I want to know is this: was the story you told legitimate or fake?”
“Parts of it,” Hagen squeaks out between sips of the alcoholic hospitality Cornar had provided.
“There was a Master Brantilis in Keth,” Hex says as he sits on the bed next to Amendal. “The key word, ‘was.’ He died several months ago. However, no one here has any ties to him. Once we found out, we came back here, and on the way we made up the story of him wanting to see you in person. We decided this was not an opportunity we could miss. We were gambling on whether you had the information on Merda yet. Do you?” Hex asks in interest.
“Yes I do. Over the past few months I have received information about Merda from two scholars I hired from the Order of Histories.”
“That was risky,” Hagen hiccups. “Are you sure you can trust them? What with the whole story being public about the scandal the council pulled?”
“They know not to betray me. I’m sure they suspect something, but they accepted payment, and now they are as guilty as we are. Typical Sorothians,” Iltar shrugs as he says the last.
“What did you find out?” Hex asks in an intrigued tone.
“Topography, legends, some facts. It seems vampires and werewolves were involved in Merda’s destruction. Nothing we can’t hand–”
“Vampires!” Hagen spits out the liquor into his clear glass. “See! I told you that place was haunted!”
The four other men look at the illusionist with some degree of annoyance at his outburst. Silence falls on the room as they stare at their short friend who looks at each man before speaking again.
“Wake up!” Hagen cries out. “Vampires! Does that mean nothing to you?!”
“We killed three dragons with fourteen men,” Iltar answers Hagen’s question indirectly. “This time we’re going in with more than double that. Vampires will not stop us.”
“Well,” Hagen sighs, “It was a nice six months of traveling to places all over the world before I die…”
“Quiet, Hagen,” Amendal sighs from the bed. He’s lying down with his head propped under a pillow. “Vampires are nothing more than humans that can live a lot longer. This will be like one of our old adventures we had years ago.”
“How long do we have?” Cornar asks from the wall.
“Five days. And when we leave I only want to see Hagen, Hex and myself on board. Everyone else will need to be invisible. In fact, if you sneak on at night it might be better. I want to leave as early as possible.”
“Works for me,” Cornar nods. “We need to decide on a place to meet. The only problem will be my two men at the Order.”
“Easy,” Hagen hiccups again. “Have Iltar take them as guards or escorts.”
Hex raises his brow as he turns to face Hagen, “You’ve been drinking too much. When does Iltar ever have an escort besides going on an adventure? Going to Keth to visit a master doesn’t require guards.”
“I will just discharge them from service, we’ve hired plenty of new guards as it is,” Iltar says, leaning against the casing of the window. Smiling smugly he continues, “It’s simple; I can say Cornar needs them for an expedition he is planning in the next month. It’s not even a lie, is it?”
“Not like one more lie would matter…” Hagen mutters.
“That will work; discharge them in two days. In the meantime I’ll think of something,” the warrior replies as he rubs his bare chin.
“Cor, I want you to inform Tilthan and his gang about the details of our departure. I want them to slip on like the rest of you.”
“What about my apprentice?” Amendal asks and sits up, looking at Iltar.
“Do you mean Nilia?” Iltar asks as he furrows his brow.
“Yes, Nilia, who else?!” the old conjurer shakes his head vigorously, flabbergasted. “I’m not going to just leave her here, am I? She knows we meet up here, and who knows what they will do when they capture her. She’s not strong enough to battle an entire battalion of the City Watch!”
“Bring her,” Cornar says. “She’ll be of help, I’m sure. Just a week ago she summoned a monster that was able to pin me to the ground. Granted I allowed her to summon it, but still, she is gifted.”
“Fine bring her along,” Iltar waves his hand and shakes his head.
“But her training isn’t complete! She might die in Merda!” the old conjurer almost shouts. “I’m not losing another apprentice.”
“Now you’re the one who needs to be quiet…” Hagen smirks as he takes one last swig of the alcohol in his glass.
The other three men laugh at the illusionist’s intoxicated joke and Iltar speaks up, “Then leave her on the ship. You can continue to develop her magical abilities while we go and between the other trips we are sure to make.”
“I suppose this is our last week in Soroth,” Hex states calmly. “Do you have any idea where the ruby, tethering stone and activating scroll are located?”
“No, but I’m sure Merda will have clues. If the dragons were hiding the amulet there, we might be able to find other records. Perhaps we’ll find out if the elves knew anything about the details of traveling between worlds,” Iltar attempts to reassure his cautious but willing friend.
“I thought you mentioned needing to find someone else?” Hagen asks while looking at the necromancer with a drunken stare. “I believe his name started with a ‘B’?”
“Yes, Balden. He is the last piece to our puzzle. I will need to figure out a way to free him from the Baron of Sereth.”
“Good luck with that,” Hagen says sarcastically, then levels a severe look at his host. “Cor, do you have anything else to drink?”
16
The Baron of Sereth
Four days later, the ferry that makes a daily trip between Soroth and the Island of Sereth carries an unusual troupe. At the bow of the ship sits Iltar, along with Cornar and several of his trained warriors; Kalder, Midar, Menal and Nordal. Leaning against the rail of the ship is the seventh member of their party, the notorious sneak Tilthan.
It is midmorning and the sea craft is partway to Sereth, where both islands can be seen off the stern and bow. The round trip between the two landmasses is almost six hours on this slower moving craft.
All the while, the men sit silently, waiting for the ferry to reach the western port of the small city.
The city Sereth is a quarter the size of Soroth with a population of roughly fifty one thousand people, including the settlements outside the city. The island itself is narrower at the southern tip and widens to almost three times that size at the northern end. About one third of the way north on the western side is a long peninsula of open land.
Along the south eastern side of the island is a vast forest that covers the rising landscape. Near the southern part of the woodland is a raised spot of land where the stone castle previously seen by Iltar overlooks the city and the sea. From the city a curving path leads up along the rising ground to the gates of the rocky palace.
Sereth has long since been a principality of the nation of Soroth. Its ruling position, the Baron of Sereth, has been its sole governing body. Everyone on the island of Sereth answers to the baron; the position has been occupied by ruthless men throughout the ages, especially at this time. The governor of Soroth and the other officials comprise the island nation’s ruling body have tolerated the baron’s behavior, so as long as he keeps his subjects inline and loyal to Soroth; yet another example of the corrupt way of life among all of Soroth and its n
eighboring islands.
“Finally,” Kalder says with relief as the port of Sereth comes into view.
“I do hope we’re going to stop to eat before we go on our way?” Tilthan asks, his hands bracing himself against the rail.
“As long as you’re paying,” Nordal glances at Tilthan, expecting an answer.
“That’s not funny,” the thief points a finger at Nordal and shakes his head. “But seriously, I know of a great place just off the dock. At least it was great last time I was here.”
“If it’s not, I’ll have Iltar cut your pay in half,” Cornar leans back as he jests, and the others, including Iltar, laugh.
As the ferry lands, Tilthan leads the small band across the pier, swinging a stuffed large pack over his shoulder, covering one side of his back. Nordal is right behind the thief with the other warriors in tow.
Iltar and Cornar are the last to disembark the ferry. The necromancer dons his cowl, folding his arms against a cool breeze blowing inland.
Just beyond the edge of the pier is a single story building with a steep roof. It is longer than it is wide, with several windows lining its front face.
Tilthan quickly walks up to the two double doors and swings them wide open. The others follow their dramatic companion inside, where he can immediately be heard flirting with the hostess. Cornar shakes his head as he and Iltar move through the threshold of the tavern.
Along the back wall in front of them is a long bar, with an assortment of bottles lining the wall. Throughout the room are plain tables and wooden chairs, many of which are occupied. A moment later, Tilthan motions them to follow him to a table near the rear of the room and to the right of the bar.
After an hour, the seven men finish their meal and cryptically discuss their plot. Once the table is cleared, Tilthan moves the pack to the top of the wooden furniture.
“Well that was good, but not as good as I remembered, though…” The thief looks around at the other men surrounding the circular slab of wood, waiting for their approval of the place.
“Not bad,” Cornar says as he cleans his teeth with a metal toothpick. He wipes it along a cloth and folds the material and the cleaning utensil into a small case, then tucks it into his tunic, the chainmail underneath rattling.
“It was sufficient,” Iltar says coldly, “But now we must move on to more pressing matters.”
Tilthan nods, pounding his open palm on the table to summon the waiter.
A moment later, a waiter strides up to the table to take payment for the meal, and all the men drop several small coins into a wooden platter. Once their meal is paid for, the party somberly exits the establishment.