Immortal

by T Nisbet

Chp. 15

  I walked next to the captain, his men fanned out around us. People turned and watched us as we passed, murmuring to one another. I concentrated on my breathing, fighting the fear that was pressing down on me like a lead weight. At the first cross street, we turned left. The street was narrow, hardly big enough for a wagon to travel on. The people on the street had to press themselves against the wall to let us pass. After a short distance, past increasingly larger stone buildings, some of which must have been more than six stories high, we came to a vast, grass-covered square.

  In the middle of the huge square a fountain sprayed water hundreds of feet up into the air. The mist that fell back into the statue laden marble pool caught the early morning sun, forming a shimmering rainbow. Thousands of families, couples and individuals sat on the grass around the fountain enjoying the beginning of a beautiful day.

  On the far side of the amazing fountain an enormous, sprawling, circus-like tent had been erected. It reminded me of the Ringling Brothers, Barnum, and Bailey Circus I’d gone to with my parents when I was little. I wondered briefly what kind of show was being performed inside.

  Tall marble buildings rose up to the sky surrounding the plaza. Bright silk banners in a multitude of colors hung down from a majority of the flower-laden balconies overlooking the grass-covered square. Taverns and restaurants occupied the bottom floors of the incredible buildings, their covered patios extending onto the street that ringed the outside of the grass square. People sat at tables in the patios beneath talking and laughing while they ate their breakfast. The smell of sausage and spices made my mouth water despite my nearly stifling fear.

  We turned right and followed the street around the plaza. More people stopped what they were doing to watch us pass.

  “I apologize for any embarrassment this may be causing you,” the captain said from beside me as we walked. “There was another way available to us, but I could not break the law and use it. I was shown what happened by the way.”

  How on earth could anyone have seen what happened? It was a fairly dark alley! Did they have video cameras or something?

  “The crystal shows the council any transgressions made under the treaty,” said the voice in my head quite a bit more faintly. “They view the transgression and decide whether banishment is suitable.”

  “How do you know that?” I said to myself.

  “I used to lead the council,” said the voice, barely recognizable now.

  The Captain mistook my silence. “You have nothing to fear. It was obvious you were provoked,” he said.

  “Then why am I being taken before the council?” I asked, embarrassed by how frightened my voice sounded.

  “You are the master of a quail blade. It is my guess they are wondering when you will return to service.”

  To say I was in shock as we walked around the square to a grand marble building that absently reminded me of the U.S. Capitol building would be an understatement. I registered that the dome above the building was made of copper, tarnished green with age, but found my normal curiosity about architecture had left me. As we ascended wide marble stairs leading up to doors made of the same material as the dome, and just as tarnished, I tried to get a grip on what was happening.

  I had been preparing to get banished by the council, and now I was supposed to enter into some kind of service to them? The captain, walking up the stairs beside me, said it was because of the sword in the sheath at my side. Did it even matter who held it?

  Several guards opened the twenty-foot high doors as we approached. I followed the captain through the doorway and into a magnificent darkened hall leaving our escort behind.

  Carved alabaster pillars rose up from the floor to the ceiling. Colossal statues that would have made Michelangelo proud stood between the huge pillars. The floor was tiled in smooth marble, streaked with red obsidian. At the far end of the hall, some four-hundred yards away, sat a long table beneath a massive glowing fresco depicting the galaxy.

  The captain’s boots echoed as we walked down the grand hall towards the table. As we drew closer I could see figures were seated behind the table, glowing in a variety of colors. They stared at me as we approached.

  “Agree to nothing!” came the barest whisper of a voice in my head.

  We stopped in front of the Council of mages, for the city of Lockewood and an old man seated in the center of the table made a dismissive gesture. The captain of the guard bowed low and withdrew.

  “Welcome protector,” he said, inclining his ancient head towards me. A light grey nimbus surrounded him, blending in with his long hair and beard.

  I bowed the best I could, noticing as I did that I was glowing too.

  “We watched your fight, protector. Your penchant for mercy is most admirable.”

  “Thank you my lord,” I said, knowing somehow that it was the right term to use.

  “If you’ll pardon me a moment, I must call the others,” he said and raised his hands. I could actually feel the magic gather around him, and heard him release it.

  Eight forms coalesced above the table. Floating there like ghosts as their images sharpened and took form.

  “That’s better.”

  “Well done Lord Flinthor,” said one of the images bowing to the old man.

  “Yes, you have our thanks,” said another descending to the floor to stand behind the old man.

  He was older still, and glowed blue just like I did. He put his hands on Flinthor’s shoulders as he regarded me.

  “Let us begin then,” he said. The mages at the table, as well as the images floating in the air, bowed to him.

  “I am Quinas, high mage of the council of Cenaria,” he said, his ancient voice whistling as he spoke. He held out his hand towards me invitingly.

  “I’m Jake Gunn your excellence,” I said and bowed again. Even though the ancient being was only a holographic-like image, he radiated power.

  “We’ve seen your coming Jake. Does that frighten you?” he said smiling.

  “Yes, I don’t understand… any of this,” I said, and hurriedly added, “Your Excellency.”

  The image laughed, as did many of the mages at the table.

  “Understandably young master. A heavy burden has been placed on you. Becoming an immortal, and receiving Thallium’s gift in two short days. I should say even my old head would be ready to implode.”

  “Begging your pardon Excellency, but what is Thallium’s gift Sir?” I asked.

  The ancient mage smiled at me. “Why, it’s the knowledge you received when you wielded Gwensorloth for the first time, of course. Thallium was my master’s master’s master. It was he who called forth the demon who must be imprisoned. The demon whose seeds have wrecked so much havoc on your world and ours.”

  I swallowed nervously. This whole thing was too surreal.

  “Time draws short, so I will come to the point young immortal. Would you serve us and ensnare this demon?” he asked.

  My heart began to race even faster. The crushing weight of claustrophobia hit me like a ton of bricks. My palms began to sweat, and I had trouble drawing a breath into my lungs. God no! Not now. Breath, just breath, don’t pass out!

  I focused my sight on Quinas, as wave after wave of panic flooded through my body. I had to answer. I knew I shouldn’t agree to anything, so I thought of the next best thing to accepting. My thoughts fluttered inside me as I tried to think of the best way to express myself. I forced a deep breath into my lungs.

  “If it is a service to you… that I should try and imprison this demon, then I am glad for it,” I said, praying my voice wouldn’t fail me, “because I have already bound myself on a quest for that very purpose, your Excellency. Any help you could offer me would be greatly appreciated.”

  I don’t know how I had managed to say what I had. The words had just come to me when I needed them. I hoped beyond hope that they had come out right. To my soul-felt relief, Quinas smiled and nodded his approval; though I could see many of the mag
es on the council before me didn’t seem pleased.

  “Well spoken Jake Gunn,” said the ancient image. “We shall call the other immortals to you, that they may assist you in this quest. Many other weighty matters demand our attention at the moment. I am afraid we can do little more to aid you than this.”

  “Thank you, your Excellency,” I stammered.

  “Oh, and Jake,” said the glowing blue image, floating through the mage he had been standing behind, the table in front of me, and stopping an arm length away. “If you speak with Thallium again, please tell him hello for me.”

  “Yes sir,” I choked out, bowing the best I could.

  When I finished the bow, Quinas and the other summoned images started to waver, becoming less distinct. When the forms faded completely the old mage who had called them, inclined his head to me and gestured to the side. I heard a door open and the captain’s boots echoing on the tile.

  “You are dismissed then protector. Fare you well in your quest. Return to the council when it is finished, that you might ‘choose’ to aid us in other important affairs,” he grimaced.

  “Yes, my lord,” I said trying not to wet myself.

  The captain appeared once more at my side. We bowed before the council, turned around towards the doorway at the end of the massive hall, and walked away from the council of mages. I had never wanted to run more in my life.

  I took a shuttering breath as the ornate copper doors clanged shut behind me. The early morning sun warmed my skin.

  “That was abrupt,” the captain commented.

  “Didn’t feel like it to me,” I said, my nerves slowly calming.

  The captain motioned the guards to form around us again, grinning at me. “Intimidating place no?”

  “You could say that.”

  We started back down the marble stairs towards the enormous city square.

  “It was built to be the most daunting structure possible. The mages that founded this town thought it would give them an advantage in dealing with the Woodland realm to the west, and the elves that rule it.” He laughed, “Apparently, they had not seen Lor Lorenith, the elves ‘Floating City’ yet. Is it true that you came through their woods?”

  An alarm sounded somewhere in the back of my mind. I had told no one. Ivy had alluded to the waitress, that our accents came from spending time trading with the Elves to the south. Maybe Coach McNally had said something, or maybe the mages had used their powers to find out. Why did the Captain of the guard want to know if we traveled through the Elvin woods? I couldn’t think of an answer, so I decided to go with a partial truth.

  “We traveled through a small portion of their woods. The trees are amazing!”

  “The floating city is suspended between and inside, four of the greatest of those trees. I was fortunate enough to see it as a young man, when I was assigned to a mage that had business there. Nothing we could hope to build could come close to being as awe inspiring as that city,” the Captain said.

  An entire city built over a thousand feet up in the trees, sounded amazing. I wondered if I’d ever get to see it.

  We stepped onto the cobble-stoned street and turned right toward the huge red and gold pavilion erected on the grass near the corner of the square. Flags, banners, and pinions in a variety of shapes, colors and designs hung from poles and standards around the huge pavilion. A sea of people packed closely together, surrounding the circus-like tents. I wondered again what was going on inside that it was had drawn such a large crowd. Would a circus in this world have lions and tigers, or trapeze acts, tightrope walkers? God forbid… clowns?

  The captain of the guard noticed my curiosity and nodded towards the tents. “It is the last day of the Spring Fair. It won’t be long before this entire square will be filled with people here to watch the tournament. Those people are gathered to see who is entering, trying to handicap their wagers.”

  I nodded. I had gone to a renaissance fair with Toby’s family last year. My favorite part had been the jousting. How the knights managed to ride a horse, hold I lance, and aim it without falling off their horses was beyond me. Looking at the huge pavilion, I wondered if jousting was a part of the tournament.

  As we neared the pavilion the guards had to push through the throng that had spilled out onto the street. People pressed against one another trying to move out of our way, muttering oaths, and staring at me. I wasn’t glowing, thank God. What attracted their attention was the fact that guards surrounded me. I was embarrassed by their stares, but did my best to ignore them.

  A guard opened a door to an unassuming building across the street from the pavilion. A formal looking sign above the door informed me it was a guard station. I felt uneasy as I was led through the double doors and into a large, white washed reception area containing only a couple of chairs sitting before a desk on the opposite side of the room. The guardsman seated at the desk stood as we entered and saluted the captain briskly. Behind him a stairwell led down, lit by glowing sconces built into the walls.

  At a gesture, guards fanned out against the walls leaving the captain and I standing in the center of the large room.

  “Get corporal Gillian,” said the Captain.

  I concentrated on my breathing attempting with little success to stanch the fear building inside me.

  “Can I go back to my friends now?”

  The guardsman behind the desk bowed before the captain and disappeared down the stairwell behind him. The captain regarded me intently.

  “Friends? I thought the rude, old man was your employer?”

  I couldn’t think of what to say and shrugged. The Captain nodded looking me over again.

  “I would ascertain your ability with a blade. I know what I saw, but I would be sure,” he said regarding me appraisingly.

  My frayed nerves revolted, but I held back the shaking and did my best to breath as we stood there waiting. I was about to get into a swordfight. I wondered briefly if my success last night had been a fluke, when the guardsman who had been sitting behind the desk returned followed by another guard who bowed before the captain.

  “Corporal Gillian here is representing the guard in the tourney,” the captain said, moving aside and motioning the guardsman forward. He nodded to Gillian. “Test his skill please,” he said moving back towards the wall.

  Corporal Gillian faced me and bowed, drawing his sword. He was dressed in black like the other guards, with long blonde hair tied back neatly into a ponytail. A nasty scar traveled down across his face from just below his right eye over his nose to the corner of his mouth. But for the scar he would have been considered handsome. He was slightly shorter than me and moved with a quiet athleticism.

  Not knowing what else to do, I drew Gwensorloth, from its scabbard, and returned the bow. Gillian grinned, the horrible scar pulling his lip back into a sneer.

  “Touch swords,” ordered the captain.

  Gillian held out his sword toward me. Swallowing, I did the same. He stepped back after our swords touched ringing out through the chamber.

  “Begin!” the captain barked.

  Gillian moved forward his blade flashing towards me. I blocked his blade, and he attacked in earnest, searching for a way through my defense. I parried the attack easily, my body knowing exactly what to do. Fear and worry flooded out of me as it always did during a physical contest. It was as if I’d held a blade my whole life. It was more than just second nature, it was part of me like the heartbeat within my chest. I was centered, strong, my muscles responding to my slightest whim. I had always been athletic; it helped having two Olympic athletes as parents.

  I countered, pressing him a little, then fell back smiling. I could see weaknesses in his defense. I instinctively knew I could take advantage of them. A part of my mind found joy in the contest, in knowing I could beat him so easily, but something urged me not to make him look bad in front of his friends.

  He attacked again, more determined, his blade a blur before me, but I easily defended myself. El
ation replaced the last of my fear as our blades sang before us in a blur, the sound of steel on steel ringing out through the room. I let him press me back a few steps, then countered and pressed him until we were once more in the center of the room. Suddenly, he stepping back disengaging.

  “He toys with me Captain Marchon. I am no match for him,” frowned the guard, perspiration beading on his forehead.

  “So he does,” said the captain regarding me curiously. “Forgive me the test Gillian. I had to be sure.”

  “My lord captain,” Gillian bowed, stepping back.

  “The men about you are the very best of our Elite Guard,” the captain said, looking back at me and gesturing to the men standing around the room. “Each has been bloodied serving as bodyguard to a mage of the council, protecting them from physical attack. They are part of an elite force that hasn’t lost a battle in over five-hundred years.”

  Captain Marchon grimaced.

  “But I’m afraid our once formidable reputation has been savaged by time, and by an extended peace. There was once over one hundred applicants for every one available position in the Guard. Now we scramble to recruit, lowering the bar that was once so high.”

  He walked over and placed a hand on Gillian’s shoulder. “It has been over thirty years since a guardsman won the tournament.” Gillian nodded to some unspoken question and bowed again to his captain. The Captain smiled at him and patted his shoulder, turning back to me.

  “I know that you didn’t accept service to the council Jake Gunn. The high mage of this city named you ‘Protector’ nonetheless, you are therefore one of us. I would have you enter the tournament as a member of the Guard and help us reclaim our glory. Word of a Guardsman taking the tournament would make our enemies think twice before physically attacking a Cenarian mage under our protection, and I would have them quake in their boots at more than the fear of magic. The people of our city and realm need reminding that the Guard is strong, that we are more than just city policemen or useless bodyguards to mages that don’t require any help.”

  Captain Marchon paused, regarding me closely. “What say you?”

  “Accept,” came the barest whisper from inside my head. I thought I’d imagined it, and was going to ignore it, but I couldn’t escape the strong feeling that I needed to accept his offer.

  “Sure,” I heard myself answer. The guards ringing the room cheered and stepped forward patting me on the back and introducing themselves.