1040 lines
62 KiB
Plaintext
1040 lines
62 KiB
Plaintext
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Date: Fri, 10 Dec 1993 16:10:16 -0500
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From: WHITEJL%DUVM.BITNET@pucc.princeton.edu
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To: rita@fir.cic.net
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Subject: File "DARGONZ V06N05P" being sent to you.
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Status: RO
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*--------------------------------- Cut here ----------------------------------*
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1 /
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DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
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D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 6
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-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Issue 5
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DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
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\\
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\
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-- DargonZine Volume 6, Issue 5 12/10/93 Cir 1109 --
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-- Archives at fir.cic.net in pub/Zines/DargonZine --
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-- Contents --
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Startled Birds Carlo Samson (Guest Commentary)
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Resolutions Carlo Samson Yuli 4, 1013
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Sons of Gateway 6: Running Jon Evans V. 30-Yule 12, 1014
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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1 Startled Birds: A Guest Commentary
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by Carlo N. Samson
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(b.c.k.a. <U20190@UICVM>)
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Seasons Greetings to all our new and current readers, and welcome
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again to another edition of _DargonZine_! Yes, the previous issue was
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another single-story blockbuster; while we endeavour to have at least
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two stories in an issue, sometimes a large story must be printed in
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its entirety in order to preserve the narrative integrity.
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Some of you may recognize two of the authors featured in issue
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6-3. Jeff Lee ("Heroic Couplet") was a member of the Dargon Project in
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1988, and his story "Stranger in the Mist" appeared in _FSFNet_ 11-1.
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He is now back with us and is currently at work on his next story.
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The other returnee is David "Orny" Liscomb, of whom I made
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mention in the commentary for issue 6-2. Orny founded the Dargon
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Project in 1984 and was its mentor until he stopped putting out
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_FSFnet_ (the predecessor of _DargonZine_) in mid-1988. At that time
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he, like many college graduates, dropped off the net and was never
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heard from again. "'Bout 'Majin'" is his first story since returning,
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and he also has a considerably more ambitious story that is currently
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in the editing cycle. We're glad to have his familiar style gracing
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our pages once again.
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Lastly, in this issue we have the sixth installment of Jon Evans'
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"Sons of Gateway" series, as well as one by this writer which wraps up
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most of the loose ends from my previous stories. Upcoming issues will
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feature the conclusion of the "Campaign for the Laraka" series, in
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addition to stories by Bill Erdley and Max Khaytsus. So stay with us,
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tell your friends about us, and let us know how we're doing.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
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1 Resolutions
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by Carlo N. Samson
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(b.c.k.a. <macgyver@vpnet.chi.il.us>)
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(Author's Note: This story takes place about a year before the
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Baranur-Beinison war.)
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Brynna Thorne stood alone at the top of one of Crown Castle's
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many towers. She leaned on the rough stone battlement and gazed out
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over the city of Magnus in the direction of the Laraka River. A warm
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breeze caressed her long dark hair and brought with it a mixture of
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scents: the briny smell of freshly-caught fish being unloaded on the
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docks; the sweet fragrance of bright flowers from the Royal Garden;
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and the faint, familiar smell of the river itself. The sight of a
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small merchant ship slowly moving downriver under the broad grey
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expanse of Kheva's Bridge brought on a twinge of longing; she wished
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she could be out there on the river, back aboard her own ship, instead
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of being cooped up inside the cold walls of a castle, even the
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majestic residence of the King of Baranur.
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She heard a voice in the distance; it sounded like someone was
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calling her name. Brynna looked around, and spotted a figure waving
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vigorously to her from far down below in the courtyard. It appeared to
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be a woman, and next to her was one of the castle guards. Brynna
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politely waved back, unsure of the woman's identity. Apparently
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satisfied, the woman spoke to the guard and the two of them
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disappeared into the castle proper.
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Brynna's brow furrowed as she mentally reviewed the list of all
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the people she knew in Magnus. Within the first week of her arrival,
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before the trial started, she had visited with all the friends whom
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she knew still lived in the city; a few of them had moved away since
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the last time she was in town.
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She was still pondering over this when she heard footsteps behind
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her. Turning, she saw a tall young woman in a simple white and green
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dress coming toward her from the tower entrance. The woman's
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sandy-blond hair was tied back with a lavender ribbon, and her oval
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face was dominated by a wide full-lipped mouth, beaming with a broad
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smile.
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Brynna felt herself returning the smile as recognition came to
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her. "Kadie! So it's you!"
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The other woman extended her arms as she closed the distance
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between them. "Brynna Brynna Brynna! Surprised to see me?"
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"As a matter of fact, yes," Brynna replied. The two women briefly
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embraced. "The last time I saw you was...how old is your son?"
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"Sons," Kadie corrected her.
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"Another one?" Brynna shook her head. "Don't you and Alexio ever
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talk anymore?"
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Kadie giggled. "Well, what do you think we talk about?"
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Brynna rolled her eyes. "You still look like the same old girl
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who used to hide whenever boys came around."
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"And you look--darker," Kadie said, squinting one eye. "But at
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least you've kept your mage mark." She reached out and touched the
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streak of blue that colored the strands of long ebony hair near the
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left side of Brynna's face.
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"As if I could get rid of it!" Brynna said with a laugh. "Now, do
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you want to tell me just what the freezing hell you're doing here?
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Dawna said that you moved back to the country two years ago."
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Kadie looked over the battlements. "My, but we're high up!" She
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gathered her skirts and sat down in a crenel. "Anyway, my husband has
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friends in the castle guard, and one of them came by a week ago for a
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chat. He happened to mention that the whole city was talking about the
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trial of some famous pirate who had been brought in by a woman ship
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captain. And I thought to myself, there's only one woman who that
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could possibly be! So I...persuaded Alexio to take me here to see you.
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He had to call in many favors and do a bit of persuading himself, but
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it all worked out and here I am!"
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"I'm impressed," Brynna said. "And I'm very glad that you did.
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Living in the Castle isn't quite how people imagine it to be."
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"So what exactly is your part in all this?" Kadie asked. "I
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thought you'd be away in some far-off port seeking ancient treasures
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or the like."
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"Well, it's...it's quite a story," Brynna said.
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"You know how much I like stories."
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Brynna sat down against the parapet. "Well, the whole thing
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started a few months ago with a book."
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"A book? What book?"
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"I was on a trading run to Dargon, and a day before we were to
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leave I wanted to get a birthday gift for my father. So I stopped in
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at a local book shop and ended up buying this very unusual tome--I'd
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never seen it's like before. The owner suggested I take it to a scribe
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he knew...."
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The scribe's name was Genarvus Kazakian, and he lived in a
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private residence east of the marketplace. He was middle-aged, shorter
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than Brynna, and dressed rather more formally than she expected. He
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seemed a bit nervous when he answered the door, but was pleasant
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enough as he ushered her into his small but comfortable study. A boy
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of about fifteen years was busily cleaning the fireplace; he
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straightened up as they entered the room. Kazakian introduced the boy
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as his assistant Abiro, and sent him away to make them some tea.
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They sat down at a table in the center of the room. Brynna
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watched Kazakian examine the book; he used a large round lens mounted
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on a wooden handle to peer closely at the cover and pages.
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"It is certainly very old," Kazakian murmured after several
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minutes. "And the writing is very precise." He put down the lens and
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looked up.
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"What about the language it's written in?" Brynna asked.
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"That I am not entirely sure about. The letters do not belong to
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any script or alphabet that I am familiar with. Although, I do have an
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idea...." He got up and pulled a book from a nearby shelf. Returning
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to the table, he opened the new book to a certain page. He used the
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lens to scrutinize the cover of Brynna's book, then looked over to the
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open pages of the other book. After a few minutes of reading, his
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expression became triumphant. "By the beard of Ol! I cannot believe
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this!" He turned to Brynna and said excitedly, "Captain Thorne, you
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have purchased a most significant tome!"
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"How significant?" asked Brynna, her interest mounting.
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"Firstly, have you ever heard of the Mystics?"
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"Of course. They were an ancient race that lived on Makdiar about
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three or four thousand years ago. My mother used to tell me stories
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about them."
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Kazakian nodded. "But if my suspicions about this book are true,
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then it may be that the Mystics did not merely exist in stories, as
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most people believe."
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Brynna was about to ask him what he meant when Abiro returned
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with the tea.
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"Just put it over there, will you?" Kazakian motioned to a low
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table in front of the fireplace. "And fetch my writing desk." Abiro
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nodded and moved to comply. Kazakian turned back to Brynna and
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continued his explanation. "You may know, Captain Thorne, that the
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Mystics are widely considered mythical by most scholars, and that
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those who do research on them are generally scorned. I fall into the
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latter category, and have gathered much information during my years of
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study." He went on to reveal that the Fretheod people, who ruled much
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of Baranur over two thousand years ago, sometimes made references to
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the Mystics in their literature, and even included samples of their
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script in various texts.
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"The symbol on the cover of the book you bought is exactly like
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the one depicted here in this Fretheod volume on religion. The symbol
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was apparently used by a Mystic sect known as the Ara'la Takkon.
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Unfortunately, not much is know about the sect, but their 'holy book'
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is commonly known as the Codex Araltakonia."
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Abiro returned with the writing desk. Kazakian opened it and took
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out a sheet of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Brynna moved
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the books aside to make room on the table.
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"Will that be all, milord?" Abiro asked.
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"Yes, yes," muttered Kazakian. Remembering Brynna, he added,
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"Unless you would like some tea, Captain Thorne?" She declined, and
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Abiro left the room with the tea tray. "As I was saying, this book may
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very well be the sacred text of the Ara'la Takkon. If so, it will do
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much to prove that the Mystics did once exist." He paused and looked
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at Brynna with a serious but hopeful expression. "If I may ask a great
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favor of you, Captain Thorne--would you be willing to take this book
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to Magnus for proper study?"
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Brynna considered for a moment. The capital was a two-week
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journey upriver from Port Sevlyn, her home and final destination. The
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crew of her ship was due shore leave, though, and the ship itself was
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in need of repairs; but it would be no trouble for her to continue on
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to Magnus by herself, and besides, it would give her the opportunity
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to visit some old friends there. "If it's that important, I'd be glad
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to do it," Brynna said.
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The scribe nodded his thanks and hurriedly scribbled on the
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parchment. "It is imperative, then, that you get this book to the
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Royal Scholar. He's an open-minded fellow--I met him while I was
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studying at the University--and he will no doubt be very interested in
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properly authenticating and translating the tome." He signed the
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parchment with a flourish. "Present this letter to him, also. It
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contains a brief summary of my conclusions, and instructions for you
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to be compensated for delivering it there."
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Brynna smiled in mild amusement. The scribe had certainly
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loosened up upon determining the book's significance. "I had no idea
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it was of such historical value when I purchased it."
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Kazakian nodded vigorously as he imprinted his seal on the
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parchment. "It is most fortunate that you came across the book and
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brought it to me. A devout man might see the hand of a god or two in
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this!"
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"Do you believe it was written by the Mystics?" asked Kadie.
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"Well, I looked at it very closely during the voyage," said
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Brynna, "and as I said the writing wasn't like anything I'd ever seen
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before. But in any case, as we neared Port Sevlyn the _Voyager_ came
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under attack by Commander Challion--"
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"He's the one who's on trial, right? Didn't he used to be in the
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Royal Army?"
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Brynna nodded. "He was Knight Captain of the Southern Marches,
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but was discharged for forcing himself on a peasant girl."
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"Disgusting," Kadie said, making a face.
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"Exactly my thoughts," Brynna agreed. "After his discharge, he
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became the leader of a band of pirates, and was widely sought for
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various crimes. He wanted the Codex, but I refused to give it to
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him...."
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"You haven't answered my question," Brynna said. "Is this a raid?
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If not, I'd very much like to get under way. Tell your mage--the
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conscious one, that is--to give us the wind back."
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Challion leaned over the rail. "I have one other objective, and I
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think you know what I mean."
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Brynna shrugged. "Do elaborate."
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"The Codex Araltakonia, Captain Thorne. I wish to purchase it
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from you."
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Cydric turned to Mandi. "The what?" he whispered.
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"That book you were looking at in the cabin," she replied in
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hushed tones."The one on her desk--it's supposed to be as old as the
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Mystics!"
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"Sorry. I don't have what you're looking for," Brynna replied,
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folding her arms.
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"No lies, no games, Captain! I know you acquired it back in
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Dargon. But I'm prepared to offer twice what you paid for it."
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"In truth, Commander, I never thought our paths would cross
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again--the dragon whale seemed rather attached to you, as I recall."
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"I got the better of the creature, in the end," Challion
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answered. Hitching his trousers up around his ample waist, he said,
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"Well, three times your purchase price, then. You'll be making quite a
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profit."
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"The knowledge in the Codex is beyond price. In any case, what do
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you want with it? You're by no means a scholar--neither are your
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mages."
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Challion rubbed his fleshy face and exhaled loudly. "My final
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offer--quadruple the amount you paid to acquire it! A fine trader such
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as yourself cannot fail to recognize a wonderful bargain such as
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this."
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"True, but I also recognize barjee squat when I hear it. And I've
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heard enough," said Brynna. "Spear detail, forward!" Several crewmen
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went over to the remains of the scorpion and picked up spears from the
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storage box. After dipping the points into the tar pot, they lined up
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alongside Brynna at the rail. Kayne lit up a torch and stood behind
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them.
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"It always comes to violence, hey Skoranji?" Challion said to the
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balding man. To Brynna he said, "Very well. If you do not wish to sell
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the book, then I am afraid I will just have to take it."
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"You and what battle fleet? Your men won't set foot upon this
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ship," Brynna shot back.
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The balding man spoke. "Truly now, m' dear? Be you willin' to
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test your pups 'gainst me bloodseekers?"
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"Would you be willing to bet on it, Captain Skoranji?" Brynna
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asked, smirking. The _Voyager_ crew laughed. Even from his vantage
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point, Cydric could see Skoranji turn red.
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"Please, please, let's not bring my friend's fondness for
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gambling into this," said Challion. "I appeal to your reason, Captain
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Thorne. Give the Codex over peacefully, and we'll part on friendly
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terms."
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Brynna shook her head. "You raffenraker, do you seriously think
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you intimidate me?"
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Challion motioned to the green-robed man, who lifted his arms and
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spoke a short phrase. An intense green glow limned his hands, then a
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ball of light the same color formed and shot toward the _Vanguard
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Voyager_. It came to hover over Kayne, then sped downward to strike
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him full in the chest and knock him backwards. It then ringed his
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neck, and slowly the First Mate rose into the air.
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"Certainly not, Captain. I know better than to threaten you. But
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a threat to your friend is another matter," Challion said, smiling.
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"True men do not hide behind magic," Brynna returned coldly,
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gripping the rail so hard her knuckles turned white. "Let him down,
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Commander Challion. Now."
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"We are going to board your ship. If you or any of your men
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resists, mister Kayne will no longer have the use of his head."
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"First let him down, damn you. Then I'll give you the Codex."
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"The book first, in exchange for his life. That is your only
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option."
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Brynna chewed on her lower lip, then finally agreed.
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"You didn't!" Kadie exclaimed.
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"Well, at that moment I didn't have much of a choice ," Brynna
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said. "But when I found out that Cydric and Mandi were hiding on deck,
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I secretly instructed Mandi to get my bow and arrows and have Cydric
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make ready to kill the wizard when I signalled."
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Kadie's eyes widened. Brynna slowly shook her head and sighed. "I
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don't like having to kill, you know that. But sometimes it's the only
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way."
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"I understand," said Kadie. "But then what? He was able to do it,
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I suppose, or else you wouldn't be here telling me about it!"
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"He did, and that enabled us to fight back...."
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Gulping a quick breath of air, Cydric leaped up, drew a bead on
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the _Black Swan's_ magic-maker, and let the arrow fly. It sped through
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the air in a flash of silver, and smacked deep into the sorcerer's
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left eye.
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The man screamed, clutched at his face with both hands, staggered
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forward, and pitched over the rail into the river.
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Kayne fell to the deck as the green ring vanished from around his
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neck. "Battle positions!" shouted Brynna. The _Voyager_ crew surged
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forward, scooping up their weapons and whooping in defiance.
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Cydric ran over to check on Kayne. Challion cursed as Brynna
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severed the grappling lines.
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"Are you all right, sir?" Cydric asked, helping Kayne to sit up.
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"Never did like wizards," the First Mate replied, rubbing his
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throat.
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Brynna instructed two crewmen to take Kayne below, then ordered
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the spear detail forward again. She retrieved the torch and re-lit it.
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Challion ordered the _Swan's_ oars back into the water, then
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directed Skoranji to prepare the ballista for a counterattack.
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Brynna handed the torch to the first spearman, who lit up his
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weapon and passed the flame to the next man. After the torch made it
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down the line and all the spears had been lit, Brynna gave the order
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to let fly.
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Several of the burning spears struck the side of the _Black
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Swan_. A few of them landed on the deck, and one managed to hit a
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sail. The fire spread quickly, forcing Challion to abandon his plans
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for a retaliatory strike in favor of saving his ship from the flames.
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Cydric and Mandi watched the action from the rail. As Skoranji
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dashed madly about the deck of the _Swan_ calling out orders, a breeze
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rippled across Cydric's cheek. At the same time the helmsman cried,
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"We've got the wind back, Captain!" Cydric looked up and saw the
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ship's sails billowing proudly once more.
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"Get us under way immediately!" called Brynna.
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As the _Vanguard Voyager_ slowly pulled away from the enkindled
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_Black Swan_, Cydric could see Commander Challion standing motionless
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at the rail, flames licking at his back. Suddenly he shouted out
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across the widening gap between the ships.
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"I will not forget this, Brynna Thorne! I cannot be defeated so
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easily--revenge will be mine, in the end!"
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|
Brynna came over and took the bow and arrows from Cydric. "Wrong,
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Challion. It ends now!" she said. She nocked an arrow and fired. It
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struck the Commander square in the chest, penetrating his breastplate.
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Challion gasped and fell back into the fire.
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"Was that really necessary?" Kadie asked.
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|
Brynna was silent for a moment. "You have to understand, that
|
|
wasn't the first time he and I crossed each other. I was just so
|
|
frustrated and angry that he had attacked me and put my crew in danger
|
|
again. I really wanted it to end."
|
|
"And I suppose it has, hasn't it?" said Kadie.
|
|
"With the trial, yes. When we arrived in Port Sevlyn, I saw a
|
|
Royal Navy ship in dock, under the command of Captain Xane Hellriegel.
|
|
He's the one who actually went back and captured Challion and the crew
|
|
of his ship."
|
|
"And you rode with them all the way here to Magnus," Kadie
|
|
finished.
|
|
"Yes," said Brynna. "I was rather surprised to see how quickly
|
|
they brought Challion to trial, though. Apparently this is one case
|
|
the Crown wants disposed of as soon as possible. And, since I was one
|
|
of his victims, I testified against him. The King is going to announce
|
|
the verdict soon, so I came up here to wait."
|
|
"Well, I'm sure there's no doubt about what it's going to be,"
|
|
said Kadie. "But how did Challion even know you had the Codex?"
|
|
"He claims that a woman hired him to obtain the book from me and
|
|
deliver it to her, in exchange for a large sum of money.
|
|
Unfortunately, the woman he described hasn't been found, and he claims
|
|
he knows nothing else about her."
|
|
"What about the Codex itself?"
|
|
"The scholars have been debating over it since practically the
|
|
moment I brought it in," Brynna said with a grin. "They seem to have
|
|
divided into two armies--those who believe it's authentic and those
|
|
who believe it isn't. I still got paid, though."
|
|
"You've certainly made your mark on this city, haven't you,
|
|
Brynna?" Kadie said with admiration. Her emerald-green eyes took on a
|
|
faraway look. "Your life is so much more exciting than mine. You've
|
|
seen and done far more that I could ever hope to!"
|
|
"That's what many people think, but the truth of it is...well,
|
|
don't tell my mother this, but sometimes I think of giving it up. Just
|
|
settling down and raising a family like you've done."
|
|
"Would you really do that?"
|
|
Brynna half-shrugged and gave a slight shake of her head. "I
|
|
don't know--I mean, you remember what happened with Tarant?"
|
|
Kadie nodded, remembering the time when a 23-year-old Brynna had
|
|
accepted a marriage proposal from a young man, but later broke off the
|
|
engagement in order to take advantage of the opportunity to become
|
|
captain of her own ship. "So what you mean is, you don't know if you
|
|
even could settle down?"
|
|
Brynna sighed. "Well, I suppose I eventually will, but it won't
|
|
be for a while, at least. Maybe someday if I ever get tired of
|
|
adventuring."
|
|
They talked a while longer about family and friends. Presently,
|
|
the castle guard who had escorted Kadie came up the tower and informed
|
|
Brynna that the King was about to render his verdict.
|
|
"Oh, came I come too?" Kadie asked hopefully. "I've never been to
|
|
a trial before!"
|
|
"Of course. Let's go," said Brynna.
|
|
|
|
The Audience Chamber of the castle had filled almost to capacity
|
|
with various courtiers and nobles by the time Brynna and Kadie
|
|
arrived. The guard led the two women through the murmuring crowd to a
|
|
bench near the front of the room where sat the other witnesses against
|
|
Commander Challion. Kadie marvelled at the vast expanse of the great
|
|
hall, and expressed great interest in the colorful banners and huge
|
|
tapestries that hung on the walls.
|
|
A few minutes later, a black-haired man in a gold and green tunic
|
|
strode solemnly into the room from the double doors at the rear.
|
|
Brynna explained that he was the Falcon Herald of Baranur,
|
|
distinguished by the image of the blue falcon in the center of his
|
|
tabard, and by the silver circlet he wore on his head.
|
|
The Falcon Herald reached the front of the hall and stood in
|
|
front of the throne. "Your respect for His Majesty, King Haralan of
|
|
Baranur!" he intoned. The room fell silent. A moment later, the doors
|
|
opened to admit an entourage that included several guards, the High
|
|
Priest, the opposing Advocates, various functionaries, then the King
|
|
himself surrounded by soldiers of the King's Own. Brynna instructed
|
|
Kadie to bow her head like the rest of the crowd as the King passed
|
|
by.
|
|
When the entire assembly had installed itself at the front of the
|
|
hall and the King had seated himself on the throne, the Falcon Herald
|
|
motioned for the congregation to be seated. Commander Challion was
|
|
then brought in, flanked by guards and iron-shackled at the wrists.
|
|
Brynna saw that although his arrow wound had fully healed, he still
|
|
carried himself as if he was in great pain--no doubt a ploy to gain
|
|
the King's sympathy.
|
|
The guards made Challion kneel before the throne. King Haralan
|
|
stared at him for several long moments, stroking his chin. Brynna's
|
|
heart pounded in her chest as she waited to hear the verdict. Finally,
|
|
the King stood up. A page handed him a golden scepter, which he
|
|
pointed at the large man kneeling before him.
|
|
"Artemus Challion, former Knight Captain of the Southern Marches,
|
|
the accusations that have been brought against you are most grave. You
|
|
have committed crimes against your country and stained your honor. It
|
|
is my judgement, then, that you be declared guilty of all charges, and
|
|
punished accordingly."
|
|
The hall exploded with scattered cheers and excitement. Brynna
|
|
leaped up and shouted with elation. Dimly, she heard Challion shouting
|
|
in protest. The Falcon Herald called for quiet, and when the noise
|
|
died down the King continued.
|
|
"Because of your past service to the Crown your life shall be
|
|
spared, but you shall be held in the dungeon for fifty years, or until
|
|
the end of your days. Furthermore, all of your possessions shall be
|
|
seized and used to pay restitution to those whom you have caused
|
|
injury. This I decree, before God and the Kingdom." He handed the
|
|
scepter back to the page. "This tribunal is concluded."
|
|
"No!" shouted Challion as the guards forced him to his feet.
|
|
"Your Majesty, please! You cannot do this to me! I implore you--" He
|
|
roared in defiance as the guards began dragging him away. Catching
|
|
sight of Brynna, his face contorted with rage. "I *will* have my
|
|
revenge, Captain Thorne!" he snarled. Brynna gazed coolly at him,
|
|
smiling faintly in satisfaction. When he was finally out of the room
|
|
Kadie remarked, "My, but he was angry! Aren't you frightened?"
|
|
"Not at all. He won't be bothering anyone for a long while."
|
|
The High Priest said a brief benediction, then the royal
|
|
entourage moved out of the hall. The crowd broke up, some leaving the
|
|
hall, others milling about.
|
|
"So what do you do now?" Kadie asked as she and Brynna headed for
|
|
the doors.
|
|
"I collect my restitution, I suppose!" Brynna said with a laugh.
|
|
Just then she spotted a familiar face coming towards her out of the
|
|
crowd. "Come on, let me introduce you to someone."
|
|
A tall well-muscled man in the uniform of the Royal Navy stopped
|
|
and congratulated Brynna. She thanked him and gave Kadie a little push
|
|
forward. "Captain Hellriegel, may I present Acadia Farrondale."
|
|
"A great pleasure," Hellriegel said, taking Kadie's hand and
|
|
pressing it to his cheek. The young woman gave a nervous giggle.
|
|
"Ah--it's--I'm delighted to meet you," Kadie falteringly replied, a
|
|
wide grin on her face.
|
|
Brynna explained that she and Kadie grew up together in Port
|
|
Sevlyn, and that Kadie moved to Magnus upon her marriage. "And didn't
|
|
you say you moved again?" she asked, casting her friend a prompting
|
|
look.
|
|
"Oh--ah, yes, we did," Kadie answered, casting her eyes shyly
|
|
downward. "After my second son was born, my husband decided that we
|
|
would need a bigger place to live, and so we moved to a town not far
|
|
from the city." She flicked her gaze up at Hellriegel, then over to
|
|
Brynna.
|
|
Hellriegel made small talk with them for a few more minutes, then
|
|
asked Brynna if she would like to join him later at a local dockside
|
|
pub.
|
|
"I'd like to, but..perhaps some other time," Brynna replied.
|
|
"Are you sure?" asked Hellriegel. "You do, after all, owe me a
|
|
dinner."
|
|
Brynna smiled. "We'll see."
|
|
"That's as good an answer as I'm going to get, eh?" Hellriegel
|
|
said with a slight nod of his head. "Hope to see you, then, Captain
|
|
Thorne. A pleasure, Lady Farrondale." He smiled as he took his leave
|
|
of them.
|
|
Kadie stared open-mouthed at his retreating back. "Did you hear
|
|
that? He called me lady!" She put a hand on her chest and turned to
|
|
Brynna. "WHY didn't you accept his invitation?"
|
|
Brynna shrugged. "I...it didn't seem appropriate."
|
|
"You spent two weeks on a ship with the man! Don't tell me
|
|
nothing happened!"
|
|
"Nothing did."
|
|
Kadie sighed and mimed slapping Brynna across the face several
|
|
times. "Is your mind still there, Brynna? HOW could nothing happen
|
|
between you and..." She glanced back and breathed a sigh. "And him!"
|
|
"Don't let Alexio hear you talk like that. He might get jealous."
|
|
"Realm of the gods, Brynna, it looks like you're not even
|
|
trying!"
|
|
Brynna put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You haven't seen the
|
|
Royal Gardens yet, have you? They have the most beautiful variety of
|
|
roses that my mother would give anything for. Would you like to go see
|
|
them?"
|
|
Before Kadie could reply, a young disheveled-looking man dressed
|
|
in red and gray scholars' robes came rushing up to them. "Captain
|
|
Thorne?" he asked breathlessly, looking at Brynna.
|
|
"Yes, what is it?"
|
|
"My name is Cullan, I'm with the Scholar's Council at the
|
|
University of Magnus. May I speak with you?"
|
|
"Concerning what?"
|
|
"It's about--well, we, that is, the Council, would like to make a
|
|
proposition--I mean, we'd like to make an offer, uh...."
|
|
"An offer of what?" asked Brynna with slight annoyance.
|
|
The young scholar visibly composed himself. "Are you available
|
|
this afternoon? The Council would like to see you before you leave
|
|
Magnus. It's about a possible expedition."
|
|
"An expedition to where?" Brynna asked, concealing her sudden
|
|
rise of interest.
|
|
"That will be discussed at the meeting. Will you be able to
|
|
attend?"
|
|
"Yes, of course. Thank you," Brynna replied.
|
|
"Very good, Captain. Um, someone will be sent for you at around
|
|
three bells."
|
|
Brynna nodded, and the young man departed.
|
|
"He seemed excited," Kadie observed. "Do you know what he was
|
|
talking about?"
|
|
"I'm not sure. I should have at least asked him about the Codex,"
|
|
Brynna said. She turned to Kadie. "Well, why don't we go see those
|
|
roses now?"
|
|
|
|
Meanwhile, in the infamous Fifth Quarter of Magnus, a gaunt
|
|
dark-haired man angrily made his way into a pub called the
|
|
Silverchance Tavern. The man swept through the common room and pushed
|
|
through the crowd in the gaming parlor until he came to one of the
|
|
private booths at the back. He flung aside the curtain and stared
|
|
wordlessly at the older, more expensively dressed man who sat at a
|
|
small table with a slender auburn-haired young woman beside him.
|
|
"Ah, Veltain! What news, eh?" the older man said, turning from
|
|
his young companion.
|
|
"Challion has just been sentenced," Veltain said tightly, eyes
|
|
narrowed.
|
|
"At last," the older man replied. "Well, sit! Tell us about it."
|
|
The gaunt man stood for a moment, breathing heavily, then ripped
|
|
the curtain back across the booth's entrance and slammed himself into
|
|
a chair. "You were wrong, Javaro. Challion has only been sentenced to
|
|
imprisonment, not death!" He rested his elbows on the table and cupped
|
|
his face in his hands.
|
|
"Then it would seem that the King is in a merciful mood today!"
|
|
Javaro chuckled and took a sip of wine from the silver goblet before
|
|
him.
|
|
Veltain looked up, annoyance clear on his face. "Don't you
|
|
understand? They may interrogate him further--he might even lead them
|
|
to her!" He stabbed a finger at the young woman, who calmly took a
|
|
long puff on the pipe she was smoking and exhaled in Veltain's
|
|
direction.
|
|
"Why must you always be so scared?" she said in a smooth voice.
|
|
"You're nothing but a mouse in a pit full of snakes." She looked away
|
|
and sucked on the pipe.
|
|
"Damn you, Taja!" Veltain said tensely.
|
|
Javaro sighed. "Calm yourself, Veltain. Nothing has changed.
|
|
Challion still knows nothing of us. What does it matter that he wastes
|
|
away in a rat-infested dungeon instead of twirling at the end of a
|
|
rope?" He slipped his arm around the young woman's bare shoulders.
|
|
"And do you really think he could recognize her outside any of her
|
|
many disguises?"
|
|
Veltain slapped both palms on the table. "The true issue here is
|
|
that the Codex is now lost to us, thanks to your total mishandling of
|
|
the whole matter! If you had done as I suggested--"
|
|
Taja looked at him sharply. "If we had done as you suggested,
|
|
every mage in Baranur would be knocking at our doorstep! You have no
|
|
concept of subtlety, mouseface."
|
|
"You call hiring pirates subtle?" Veltain sneered. "I would call
|
|
that desperation born of ineptitude. I'm going to recommend that the
|
|
both of you be expelled from the Triarch at once!"
|
|
Javaro leaned across the table. "There's no need for that,
|
|
Veltain," he said in a low voice. "The situation may still be
|
|
salvaged."
|
|
"You utter fool!" Veltain spat, nearly rising from his chair.
|
|
"Without the Codex, the Triarch will remain no more powerful than a
|
|
band of street urchins! I find it incredible that they entrusted the
|
|
task to you!"
|
|
Javaro's eyes narrowed. "One cannot foresee all that may go
|
|
wrong," he said. "Nor can one accurately predict the actions of
|
|
another."
|
|
Veltain smirked. "You thought retrieving the Codex would be
|
|
simple, given that Captain Thorne is a woman." He ignored the look
|
|
that Taja threw him.
|
|
"I am a patient man, Veltain, but I am starting to become annoyed
|
|
with you," said Javaro, gripping the stem of the goblet.
|
|
"You've become soft. Soft and weak. You have no place with us
|
|
anymore!"
|
|
Taja took the pipe out of her mouth. "You quivering little
|
|
mouse," she said with sharp disdain, her pale blue eyes mocking him.
|
|
"Why don't you go find a cat to put you out of your endless state of
|
|
fright?"
|
|
"Bitch," Veltain said.
|
|
"Meow," replied Taja.
|
|
Javaro frowned. "I don't want to ever see you again, Veltain," he
|
|
said. "Leave us."
|
|
Veltain threw up his hands and quickly rose from his chair,
|
|
nearly knocking the table over. "Gladly." He turned and made to open
|
|
the curtain. Suddenly he spun around and with a motion almost too fast
|
|
to see, hurled something at Javaro. Taja screamed as the man's eyes
|
|
popped wide, a many-pointed metal star embedded in his throat. Blood
|
|
bubbled from the wound as Javaro gurgled and slumped over.
|
|
Veltain's arm flashed again. Taja jerked aside as another metal
|
|
star buried itself in the wall. She ducked down and shoved the table
|
|
hard against Veltain's legs. The gaunt man lost his balance and
|
|
tumbled backwards, bringing the curtain down as he fell. Several of
|
|
the patrons in the gaming parlor looked up in startlement as Taja ran
|
|
out of the booth, screaming wildly. Veltain scrambled to his feet and
|
|
started to pursue her, but changed his mind after seeing the young
|
|
woman tearfully imploring a pair of leather-clad men to help her.
|
|
Veltain almost made it to the back door before the two men caught
|
|
him. At Taja's insistence, they took him outside into the alley behind
|
|
the tavern. Taja followed, sobbing. Her expression changed as she
|
|
watched the men punch and kick Veltain. After a few minutes she told
|
|
them to stop. She took a pinch of tobacco from one of the pouches she
|
|
wore around her slim waist and sprinkled it into the bowl of her pipe.
|
|
After lighting it, she told the men to stand Veltain up against the
|
|
wall and move away. She approached the man's bruised and bloody form
|
|
and put her face next to his.
|
|
"You shouldn't have killed Javaro," she said icily. "And another
|
|
thing; just because you're dealing with a woman doesn't mean that
|
|
things will be simple." She took a step back and puffed on the pipe. A
|
|
moment later, she exhaled a cloud of smoke into the gaunt man's face.
|
|
Veltain coughed and waved his hands in front of him. Taja and her two
|
|
confederates watched from further down the alley as Veltain's coughs
|
|
became ragged gasps for breath. Soon he was on the ground, wheezing
|
|
violently. He kicked and struggled, clawing at his chest. Finally a
|
|
tremor rippled through his body and he lay still. Taja smiled with
|
|
satisfaction as she led the men away.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
1 Sons of Gateway, Part 6: Running
|
|
by Jon Evans
|
|
(b.c.k.a <godling@SYTEX.COM>)
|
|
|
|
My name is Cara Shem Fenib. I lead my clan. It is the cold time
|
|
in the plains, but we have survived. I have been a good hunter, so
|
|
there has often been meat, instead of the hard roots that leave my
|
|
insides almost as empty as not eating at all. Sickness among my clan
|
|
also has been rare: the wind spirits have been kind.
|
|
This light time marks the middle of the cold time. If we survive
|
|
now, my clan lives until the next cold time. But, the last few hunts
|
|
have not gone well. Each member of my clan gets hungrier, and with
|
|
hunger comes desperation: a young one challenged me, earlier. I
|
|
refrained from hurting him, and avoided hurt for myself, but if the
|
|
hunts do not improve, things will get worse.
|
|
I sent the mothers and the weak to the thick trees in search of
|
|
roots. I and my brothers will hunt what we can, and alert the others
|
|
if we kill. Separation is bad for the clan. If we kill, it will take
|
|
longer for the others to arrive, and another beast or clan may claim
|
|
it before the rest of my clan arrives. But, at least the hunters will
|
|
have eaten. I have no choice. Our mothers will starve, and will not be
|
|
able to make milk for the young when the warm time comes and our loins
|
|
burn.
|
|
My brother's call disturbs my thoughts: he has found a fresh
|
|
trail. It is near the darkness, now is the best time. The tracks are
|
|
from a large beast. The depth of its tracks show much weight. The
|
|
scent tells us its taste, and our legs tighten, and our stomachs cry
|
|
out to be filled. We follow quickly.
|
|
The scent gets thicker in a spot: it rested by this tree, it does
|
|
not know we follow it. The trail continues, away from the thick trees,
|
|
and we see a structure lit by Spara-Kla, the burning air. There are
|
|
many worshipers around it. They are the Spara- Klani, the man-beasts,
|
|
and they do not travel without the burning air. They roam the fields,
|
|
burn the land, and hunt in the thick trees with the long claw and the
|
|
flying stick. And they kill my clan when we are many and strong. We
|
|
war with the Spara-Klani, but we are too weak now.
|
|
The trail continues past here, back to the trees, and we follow
|
|
it, knowing that it is the riding-beasts of the Spara-Klani that we
|
|
follow.
|
|
|
|
"I couldn't reach you until I was about a hundred feet away,"
|
|
Kenneth told Rho as they rode through the darkening woods. They left
|
|
the burning tent and its occupants behind, trying to put out the fire,
|
|
find out what its cause was, and control the slaves at the same time.
|
|
"I know. The device must be very powerful." Rho looked over her
|
|
shoulder to Goren, who sat in the saddle behind her. Kenneth, it
|
|
seems, was only able to acquire one extra horse from the camp ground,
|
|
and wasn't expecting any company. The silk clothes Goren and Rho had
|
|
been wearing in the tent were not nearly warm enough for the winter
|
|
evening, even with five layers of the material wrapped about them, and
|
|
sharing the horse allowed them the double benefit of sharing their
|
|
body heat.
|
|
"I am thankful for your rescue, Kenneth," Goren spoke as a way of
|
|
getting into the conversation. For some reason, Kenneth had not
|
|
treated him terribly respectfully in the past half bell. Goren wished
|
|
he knew why. "My family will reward you greatly for my return, when we
|
|
get to Magnus. I'll make sure of it."
|
|
Both Rho and Kenneth turned and looked at him disapprovingly when
|
|
he said this, but it was Kenneth who spoke next, as if Goren wasn't
|
|
even there.
|
|
"I would have warned you if we had the time, but I was being...
|
|
followed."
|
|
"Looks like nothing's coming, now," Goren said, glancing back to
|
|
make sure there was nothing behind them. This time, Kenneth did him
|
|
the courtesy of acknowledging his remark.
|
|
"There are other ways of knowing when you're being followed, boy.
|
|
We are still in danger of those who are behind us." He looked down at
|
|
Rho, almost scolding her with his expression.
|
|
"I had to make a decision, didn't I?" She seemed almost childlike
|
|
to Goren with this remark, and he glimpsed a softness that he hadn't
|
|
seen from her in the tent. He wondered if he could like this
|
|
demanding, oppressive woman whose angelic eyes concealed experiences
|
|
he didn't wish to live, and a fire he feared... and shared.
|
|
"It was wrong," was Kenneth's only response, and he looked
|
|
forward and down as if to end the conversation, but he mumbled one
|
|
last phrase in the next half bell. "The Fenib still have to be fed."
|
|
|
|
The trail enters the thick trees, again, and I send my brother
|
|
for the mothers and the weak. We are close now, and the man-beast will
|
|
be stopping, and our numbers will be greater. It is very dark, and the
|
|
Spara-Klani do not travel in the darkness.
|
|
A strange thing happens: a man-beast walks toward my clan, not
|
|
covered in its usual hide, and lays down in the white cold. My brother
|
|
starts forward, but my bark stops him. The Spara-Klani are not to be
|
|
trusted.
|
|
I step closer, coming near his leg. He does not move. Smelling
|
|
him, I do not sense fear. This disturbs me, and I warn my brothers.
|
|
But this man-beast is foolish. The white cold surrounds him, makes him
|
|
weak, and all we must do is wait.
|
|
Then I feel him in me, speaking to me, showing me, and I know:
|
|
this one is for us. I wait, and the white cold takes his heat and
|
|
leaves him with the smell of the Black Fenib. I bark to my brothers:
|
|
we shall survive this cold-time.
|
|
|
|
Cold air greeted Goren as he stirred from under the blankets he
|
|
and Rho had shared to keep themselves warm. The small lean-to which
|
|
Kenneth had built the night before kept some of the wind out, and most
|
|
of the snow, but the rest of the blankets and materials were needed
|
|
for the horses. He looked around, searching for his many layers of
|
|
thin clothes and found only a few of the items with which he had left.
|
|
"Here, wear these," were the first words Rho greeted him with as
|
|
she entered the slight structure, a gust of wind following her. She
|
|
threw a small pile of clothes - a cape, suede vest, thick white pants
|
|
and a pair of white boots which were a little large for him, and added
|
|
as she walked out, "We're leaving soon."
|
|
He dressed quickly, finding that most of the items fit him rather
|
|
well, over the thin layer of clothes he had taken from their previous
|
|
lodging. What was that place, anyway, he found himself wondering, and
|
|
where are we going in such a hurry? And where were these clothes last
|
|
night, when I needed them? And what's happened to... He left the tent.
|
|
"I don't understand," was the first thing he said to her. She was
|
|
dressed in some new clothes, also; probably taken from the saddle bags
|
|
she was strapping onto the horses. She gave him a hard look, filled
|
|
with sadness and determination.
|
|
"He left last night," was her only explanation. This did nothing
|
|
for Goren's need for information, and only made him wonder who he was
|
|
dealing with, now that they were free.
|
|
"Oh, so he always just gets up and walks off without his clothes?
|
|
In the middle of the night?"
|
|
"The Fenib had to be fed." She looked at him, almost accusing.
|
|
"Who in Risseer's feast are the Fenib?" He was getting very
|
|
annoyed. He knew she could knock him on his back, if she needed, but
|
|
he didn't care. He only wanted answers, something she owed him at this
|
|
point.
|
|
"Inhabitants of these woods. Creatures who live in the winter
|
|
because we help them, because they need help. All Stevene's creatures
|
|
need help, some time or other."
|
|
"Nehru's pointy nose! A Stevenic!" He threw his arms up in the
|
|
air and began pacing around the fire Rho had built earlier. "Listen, I
|
|
don't care what religion you follow, as long as it's not bloody Saren.
|
|
All I want is answers. Why did he leave, what's happened to him, and
|
|
why am I wearing his clothes? These are his clothes, aren't they? I
|
|
mean, is he coming back, or isn't he? How does he intend to feed the
|
|
Fenib? No one in their right mind just wanders off into the winter
|
|
night without anything to wear. No one can live through..."
|
|
His words trailed off slowly, their meaning finally hitting home.
|
|
He knew why Kenneth had left, now, and what had probably happened to
|
|
him. He had only one reply. "Ol, that's disgusting."
|
|
Again, she said, "The Fenib had to be fed."
|
|
"Why him?"
|
|
This question only resulted in Rho's accusing glare. He didn't
|
|
know why, but he had the feeling she thought it was his fault. Then,
|
|
she stopped.
|
|
"I'm sorry, it's not your fault. It's mine." Goren understood
|
|
this statement about as well as he did all her opening thoughts, so
|
|
she reinforced it. "If I had not taken you with us, you would have run
|
|
on your own, when the tent burned, wouldn't you?" Goren nodded. "Well,
|
|
you would have been caught by the Fenib, and they would have fed on
|
|
you. You would be dead, now, and not Kenneth."
|
|
"He gave his life...?"
|
|
"I didn't know! The magic field around the tent was preventing me
|
|
from contacting Kenneth. The Fenib were in danger of dying out."
|
|
"But he's a human being!"
|
|
"It doesn't matter, in the long run. There are plenty of human
|
|
beings, but the Fenib who hunt in winter are slowly dying off. It's
|
|
our fault, you know."
|
|
"What?" That last one was a little much. As hard as it was for
|
|
him to understand that Kenneth's life had been forfeit for his own,
|
|
that Rho thought she was the reason for Kenneth's death, and the Fenib
|
|
had to be fed, he had no concept of why she thought the Fenib's
|
|
inability to survive was his and Rho's fault.
|
|
"Not 'ours' meaning yours and mine, but 'ours'... the human
|
|
race's. We kill them in the summer, when they hunt the game we think
|
|
of as our own, the game we cage in to make the slaughter that much
|
|
easier. It reduces their chances of surviving the winter."
|
|
Goren looked at her, seeing pain, happiness, confusion, and
|
|
remorse all over her face. It crumbled, her eyes became cloudy and her
|
|
shoulders drooped. He thought of going to her, resting her honey-brown
|
|
head against him, but she stiffened immediately.
|
|
"There. You have your answers. Now, we head for Magnus to return
|
|
you to your family."
|
|
Goren began scooping snow into the fire and listening to it
|
|
simmer as the flames became lower and lower.
|
|
|
|
"What can possibly be taking them so long?" Ne'on asked no one in
|
|
particular as he looked at his map of Baranur. He traced a line, once
|
|
more, from Gateway to the Nar-Enthruen where he had sent a company of
|
|
men to take the Stone of Strength. That gem was a giant piece of an
|
|
important spell component. With it, he could open a gate the size of
|
|
this hall.
|
|
Ne'on paced in front of the fireplace slowly, reflecting on the
|
|
comfort of the warmth. Lifting his black hand, he tilted his head back
|
|
slowly to empty the goblet's contents down his throat. What was that,
|
|
his third this evening? He hadn't kept count. He didn't care, anymore.
|
|
Things had gotten out of control. He could barely even remember how he
|
|
had gotten here. He reached for the bottle.
|
|
Everything had gotten so chaotic. And then there was Phos. Phos,
|
|
whose logic was infallible, who rationalized everything so
|
|
convincingly until, before he knew it, Ne'on was sitting on the Seat
|
|
of Gateway and heir to House Winston. Phos, whose magic filled him,
|
|
gave him the strength to do the things he couldn't control on his own.
|
|
But it felt so good when the energy filled him. It was better than the
|
|
wine he was drinking. It was better than anything he had ever known.
|
|
He could fly, if he wanted, or make lightning strike from the sky.
|
|
And people listened to him. Yes, he admitted, that was definitely
|
|
something to consider. The power and respect that he commanded. The
|
|
way people accepted what he told them, listened to his instructions,
|
|
and things went along so smoothly. There were actions which had to be
|
|
taken before that happened. Ne'on didn't like to think of those times.
|
|
He could hardly remember them happening, as if he had dreamed them
|
|
during the night, only to wake up and find himself here, now. Phos had
|
|
taken care of them. When things became confused, and Ne'on didn't know
|
|
what to do - that seemed to be happening often, in the last few months
|
|
- he called Phos. All Phos asked in return was a way into this world.
|
|
Ne'on liked to think of Phos as his guardian angel.
|
|
"Why not look for them?" Clay suggested from the edge of the
|
|
firelight. "You have magic..."
|
|
"That wouldn't work for our - my - benefit. It'd be like turning
|
|
on a bright light in a forest. Equiville would pick it up in an
|
|
instant."
|
|
"I don't understand," Clay returned, stepping out of the shadows
|
|
to peer at the bottle of Lederian red. Why not? he thought, and
|
|
reached to fill an empty flask with the wine.
|
|
"I thought you didn't drink."
|
|
"I don't," Clay returned, and swallowed a large quantity of the
|
|
liquid.
|
|
Ne'on stared silently at his Captain. There were a lot of things
|
|
he hadn't bothered to learn about Clay. He hadn't thought he needed
|
|
to, but perhaps now... no. It would all be over in a few weeks. This
|
|
damn magic - it can take control of a man.
|
|
"Picture yourself sitting in the hills, watching a field. It's
|
|
night time, heavy clouds, no moon. Someone is in the field, but he's
|
|
not using anything to light the way. Can you see him?"
|
|
"Very difficult," Clay answered. He finished the rest of his
|
|
goblet, and put it back on the table. Instictively, he wandered toward
|
|
the edge of the light. "But what does that have to do with it?"
|
|
"To use my magic," Ne'on explained, "I would have to lower the
|
|
Garthian Blind. That would be like lighting a torch in the middle of a
|
|
dark field. Gateway would become very visible to Equiville's senses,
|
|
and we can't afford that... not yet."
|
|
Bartholemew Clay stepped back into the darkness.
|
|
|
|
"Just remember what I told you," Rho's voice, surprisingly
|
|
neutral, reminded him. "Don't stay at Gateway too long. You're not
|
|
meant for that, anymore."
|
|
"I still don't understand what you're telling me. First-"
|
|
She looked at him again, and he became silent. The winter thaw
|
|
had come and gone on their trip to Magnus, and the horse he had ridden
|
|
had broken a leg in the muddy trail. They were forced to kill it.
|
|
Something else for which she would remember him. She had a way of
|
|
making him feel sorry, making him want to repent for simple mistakes.
|
|
She had an influence on him which he had never known by his father,
|
|
and couldn't remember from his mother. No one, in fact, had ever made
|
|
him feel so much like a child, an inexperienced, immature infant. Yet,
|
|
it wasn't malicious. It was more like... being instructed.
|
|
"Don't understand, Goren. Just listen to people who know what
|
|
they're talking about. Go to Gateway, do what you have to do, and then
|
|
leave."
|
|
"What am I supposed to do after that?" He scowled slightly when
|
|
he said that, realizing that he had been taking orders from her for so
|
|
long he began to rely on her input. "Forget it. I'll find something to
|
|
do."
|
|
"Good." She began to walk away, then turned around. "Remember
|
|
what I told you about Stevene. He'll forgive you, as long as you
|
|
forgive everyone else. And He loves you, no matter who you are, or
|
|
what you do."
|
|
Goren waived as she pulled her horse in front of her, down the
|
|
cobblestone drive, and onto the road that would eventually lead her
|
|
out of Magnus. She wanted him to go to Dargon for some reason. She
|
|
hadn't said it exactly like that, but he knew she would be there...
|
|
maybe he would go. She was very trying, as a friend, he thought. Never
|
|
gave him an inch. He smiled as he turned to walk up the steps... he
|
|
liked her like that.
|
|
|
|
Haralan squinted his eyes, surveying the battle plans his
|
|
advisors and War Council members had drawn out before him. It didn't
|
|
appear favorable on the field, out-manned and out-horsed by the
|
|
Beinison Army, but Magnus - and Crown Castle, particularly - was
|
|
strong, and held the loyalty of every good citizen. It would take more
|
|
than Beinison had, he hoped, to claim victory here. But these Councils
|
|
went on forever; and with Marcellon's condition...
|
|
"My Lord King," Edward Sothos, Knight Commander of Baranur's
|
|
Armed Forces, spoke slowly and intently. "If the Beinison Armada makes
|
|
its way down the Laraka and joins forces with the Emperor's Fist and
|
|
the regular army in our Southern Marches, Magnus *will* be endangered
|
|
seriously. It may be necessary to draw plans for evacuation."
|
|
"Surely," spoke High Priest Redcrosse, "such plans were drawn up
|
|
years ago. This discussion hardly seems necessary."
|
|
"Surely, they were, my Lord High Priest," the Knight Captain of
|
|
the Northern Marches, Luthias Connall, interupted, not a little
|
|
contempt for the pompous clergyman in his voice. Haralan realized just
|
|
how much Luthias had aged these past two years, with the beard roughly
|
|
outlining his tired face, but he had yet to learn the complete wisdom
|
|
of restraint. "However," Luthias continued, "those plans were drawn up
|
|
over one hundred years ago, when Magnus only had three sections. Only
|
|
chaos, confusion, and death would result if we tried to implement
|
|
those plans today."
|
|
"Well, then," returned the clergyman, "surely we should consider
|
|
the safety of the Church-"
|
|
A loud noise from the hall outside the chamber, followed by the
|
|
main doors opening, interupted the High Priest.
|
|
"Your Majesty," announced a guard, "Goren Winston of Gateway Keep
|
|
insists on appearing before you."
|
|
One more thing, he thought. The King sighed heavily, sat back in
|
|
his throne, and motioned for his council members to sit down. "Show
|
|
him in."
|
|
A ragged, tired, and disshevelled man appeared before the throne,
|
|
hardly presentable to a king under normal circumstances. "My Lord
|
|
King, my name is Goren Winston," he began, and the King's patience,
|
|
worn thin by the demands of war and unhelpful clergymen, failed
|
|
immediately.
|
|
"I am quite aware of your name, your title, and your heritage, my
|
|
Lord Keeper. The Winston Household is one of the most well known among
|
|
the minor nobles, and your resemblence to your father -beneath the
|
|
dirt and blood on your face - is a striking one. I am also aware that
|
|
you are now Keeper of Gateway, following your father's demise, and
|
|
that you hold one of the key strongholds at the joining of the Laraka
|
|
and the Vodyanoy rivers. Am I to surmise, then, by your appearance and
|
|
your urgency, that we have lost that stronghold to the Beinison
|
|
invasion, or have you finally decided - after six months of delay - to
|
|
take the time away from your country's defense in order to receive
|
|
your formal title by my hand? In light of the desperate situation the
|
|
first example places us in, I prefer to believe that the leader of
|
|
this potential military point of contention hasn't the wits to realize
|
|
where he is needed most! Further more, the question of who was left in
|
|
charge comes to mind, with the only possible answer being Knights of
|
|
the Star!"
|
|
The King rose from his throne, and Goren stared haplessly about
|
|
the room, receiving no help from its other occupants. "My Lord King?"
|
|
"We are at war, man - do you know what that means?"
|
|
"War..." the word came out slowly, comprehension sinking in
|
|
deeply and suddenly.
|
|
"Yes, war - or haven't you been reading the royal messages sent
|
|
from duchy to duchy these past months?" Haralan could not believe that
|
|
Gateway Keep had been ignorant of the movement and news of the
|
|
Beinison and Baranurian armies. He had sent a message less than twenty
|
|
days past to the Lord Keeper, who had replied with Gateway's
|
|
readiness.
|
|
"Begging your forgiveness, your Majesty," Goren began, "in the
|
|
past six months I have witnessed my father's death, been imprisoned by
|
|
my brother, beaten by guards, hunted by slavers, and told that the
|
|
feeding of a man I hardly knew to a pack of beasts was indirectly my
|
|
fault. I have spent the last three months trying to cover the two
|
|
weeks' distance between Gateway and Magnus for the sole purpose of
|
|
clearing my name and requesting the aid of your Majesty in bringing my
|
|
brother - the true murderer of my father - to justice. The idea that
|
|
this country was at war never entered my mind, nor are royal messages
|
|
passed on to slaves from their owners to keep them abreast of world
|
|
news."
|
|
Haralan returned to his throne, raising his hand to halt Goren's
|
|
speech. "Something, then, has halted your freedom, my Lord Keeper.
|
|
Lord Marcellon informed me four months ago of your situation and
|
|
dispatched a letter to a fellow practitioner of the arts in order to
|
|
reinstate your position by royal decree. Obviously, this was never
|
|
executed. We had thought you in the Keeper's Seat these last two
|
|
months, at least."
|
|
Haralan searched about him for a quill and parchment, moving the
|
|
maps and scout reports and hypothetical troop movements out of his
|
|
way. "This letter of appointment will have to do," he continued,
|
|
dipping the quill and scratching it onto the parchment, pausing every
|
|
so often to speak. "I can't... afford the men... for an envoy... but
|
|
reveal this to... Castellan Ridgewater, isn't it?... whom, I am
|
|
told... was very loyal to... your family." Haralan signed his name
|
|
with a flourish, dripped some wax onto it, and punched his ring
|
|
finger's royal seal into the wax.
|
|
"How am I to deal with my brother, Ne'on?"
|
|
"We all have our situations to deal with if we're to overcome the
|
|
Beinison forces, Lord Keeper. See if your uncle can spare a few of the
|
|
House Guard to accompany you. And please, do the court a favor and
|
|
find your uncle's baths before you embark. Looking like that, you're
|
|
not likely to instill loyalty in a dog."
|
|
Goren sighed deeply. "Thank you, your Majesty."
|
|
"If you'll excuse us, Lord Keeper, we have a War Council to
|
|
continue. You'll be receiving orders from us shortly, so take care of
|
|
your business as quickly as possible."
|
|
"Yes, my Lord King." Goren bowed for three backward steps,
|
|
turned, and exited the hall.
|
|
Edward Sothos looked at the King. "A little hard on the boy,
|
|
weren't you?"
|
|
"He's no boy... Untar is younger, and his scheming threatens our
|
|
nation. It's time Winston started accepting the responsibility for the
|
|
title he's claiming."
|
|
Sir Luthias nodded his head in grim agreement.
|
|
------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
1 (C) Copyright December, 1993, DargonZine, Editor Dafydd
|
|
<White@DUVM.BitNet>. All rights revert to the authors. These stories
|
|
may not be reproduced or redistributed (save in the case of
|
|
reproducing the whole 'zine for further distribution) without the
|
|
express permission of the author involved.
|
|
|