“Unfortunately, as I’m sure everyone knows by now, a new thief in the employ of the Guild named Xander was able to steal the gem out of Guild headquarters and make it out of Locus. I haven’t yet figured out how this was done, but because we were able to track Xander’s exact location, I wasn’t overly concerned. Unfortunately, our initial attempt to recapture the gem has failed.” The Guildmaster looked at Gaston so everyone could see who was to blame. “Even worse than this, we are no longer able to track Xander’s location. Had it not been for Nero’s help with eyes on his location, the gem would likely have slipped beyond our reach.
“I have recently heard a report from the two agents assigned to track Xander and the gem; they say Xander and the other four members of his party are heading toward Lord Shetley’s new keep in the Dragon Spine Mountains.” The Guildmaster looked directly at him and said, “Nero, I have been told you have more intelligence about where Xander is going. Is this true?”
“Yes, Guildmaster. Xander is traveling with General Lacrue’s two sons who were exiled from Armena and also with a half-elf wizard and the captain of Lord Shetley’s guard. Lacrue’s sons appear to be hell-bent on finding the First Heir of Armena and returning him to the throne. They are searching for one of the many entrances to the Underworld, and once they find this entrance they mean to use it to recover the First Heir.
“I overheard the wizard and healer of Wessex piece together the location of the Underworld entrance in Darkwood Forest where Gram is conducting his work. Gram and I moved quickly to kill the wizard and healer before they could tell Lacrue’s sons where the entrance was, but we were caught by surprise when visitors came to see the wizard, and we had to make a hasty retreat.
“Given Xander’s possession of the gem, the elven brothers involvement with the First Heir, and the importance of both these things to the Guild, it seems quite a coincidence that Xander and the elven brothers found each other and are traveling together. I can’t explain it. They seem like an unremarkable group given our power and the fact that Armena is conducting its own search for the First Heir, yet they continue to evade capture.”
The Guildmaster spoke up. “So Xander and his companions likely know the location of the entrance to the Underworld under the old Shetley Keep?”
“That is correct, Guildmaster.”
“That is a most unfortunate and unforeseen turn of events. Armena has of course been probing extensively into the King’s death and has been searching desperately for the First Heir, but their investigation has largely reached a dead end. Somehow, these elven exiles, along with Xander, have had better luck than the entire Kingdom of Armena.
“Gram’s work has priority for us and our Krone allies. It must not be interrupted. If Xander and his group are going to move toward Darkwood Forest, then we will have to deal with them before they get there.” The Guildmaster’s gaze shifted slightly to the man sitting on Nero’s left. “Sirus, do you think you are capable of dealing with Xander and these elves?”
Sirus was the lowest ranking Circle member aside from Nero and no doubt eager to prove his worth. He leaned forward over the table and replied with confidence, “Yes, Guildmaster. I don’t think that will prove to be a problem.”
“Good, then I would like you to depart immediately to deal with this threat before they interrupt Gram’s work. It also goes without saying that you should recover the gem as well."
Sirus tilted his head with assurance and said, “Of course, Guildmaster. I will depart as soon as possible.”
The Guildmaster turned his attention back to Nero. “Sirus’s new assignment doesn’t affect what I have in mind for you, Nero. Are you rested enough to continue serving the Guild?”
Another day would have been nice, but that answer was not an option. “I’m at your command, Guildmaster.”
“Good. You are supposed to report back to the Armenien capital of Bethel and await further orders from your Philosopher superiors, are you not?”
“Yes, Guildmaster. I was supposed to go to the Ring Sea and find out who killed the King of Armena and report back in a moon’s turn. I am a few days overdue at present, but that will not be a problem.”
“Good. I would like you to return to Bethel immediately. A short time after you return you will receive orders from your Philosopher superiors to join up with Xander and the two sons of Lacrue. Your Philosopher orders will be to help the brothers locate the First Heir, but your true objective as a member of the Guild will be to take the gem from Xander at the earliest opportunity and return it to us. Are your orders clear, Circle member Nero?”
“Yes, Guildmaster. I will leave shortly.”
“Excellent. Do what you can. The Sorcerers are in chaos without their leader, but I won’t get a good night’s rest until we have control of the gem once more.
“Now, let’s turn our attention to the two tasks that still need to be completed. First, the King of Kentar must die. How is this task coming along?”
All eyes turned to the human wizard three seats down on the Guildmaster's left side, next to the vacant seat left by Gram and the seat occupied by Daniel. Rafa said, “My plan is proceeding nicely, Guildmaster. My agents and I have convinced certain members of the Sorcerers and high nobility that the King of Kentar is a demon from one of the seven hells and must be replaced. My feeling is that they will strike the King down within a moon’s turn. If this first plan should fail, I have a more direct attack planned. Either way, the King will be dead within a turn of the moon.”
“Excellent. I congratulate you on turning the King’s own wizards and nobility against him. It would be far better if your first plan succeeds so that our involvement will not be noticed.”
The Guildmaster turned away from Rafa without waiting for an answer and addressed the Thirteen once again. “Now, onto the final objective. The Philosopher organization within Armena must be destroyed. I have turned this delicate task over to Gaston.”
The Guildmaster motioned in Gaston’s direction and he began to speak in what Nero thought was a reluctant tone. “We have always suspected what Nero has confirmed about the command structure of the Philosophers. The organization was founded by a group of elf wizards known as the Council of Wizards. They are similar to us in that they collect all manner of information and have agents of every type throughout Tellus. The Council of Wizards is rarely seen, presumably for security reasons, and they send orders to their agents using messengers. The Philosophers ultimately serve the King of Armena, answer to him alone, and are known only to a few elves at the highest level. The Philosophers keep the Kingdom of Armena strong by snuffing out all internal and external threats after they have barely been conceived.”
Gaston stopped for a moment before reluctantly continuing. “The only way to destroy the Philosophers is to kill the Council of Wizards and cut off the head of the snake. Without the Council of Wizards, the Philosophers will be leaderless and their agents will be easily disposed of. I regret that as of yet, no real opportunity to accomplish this goal has presented itself. We need to find a way of forcing the Council of Wizards to show ...”
The Guildmaster stopped Gaston in mid-sentence. “Are you saying that after many moons of investigation you have no real plan for accomplishing this vital mission?” A look of pure rage crossed the Guildmaster's face that Nero had never seen before and didn’t care to see ever again.
Gaston quickly continued, trying to take the blame off of himself. “We know of several Philosopher agents and are attempting to track them back to the Council of Wizards, but so far this has been unsuccessful. We have even tortured several of their agents, but the agents don’t even know who the members of the Council are. They all confirm that written orders just appear at their door or that Council members will just appear at their home, but no names are ever given. I just need a little more time, an opportunity will ...”
The Guildmaster threw himself to his feet and Gaston jumped up as well. The Guildmaster took two steps toward Gaston, and Gaston backed up two
steps in order to keep his distance. “Please, Guildmaster, I have never let you down. I just need more time. An opportunity will present itself.”
The Guildmaster said one arcane word and threw his arm into the air. He was not touching Gaston, but somehow Gaston was lifted off his feet and thrown against the wall. A ring on the Guildmaster's little finger glowed bright gold as Gaston hung in midair against the wall. The Guildmaster brought his thumb and forefinger together as if he were squeezing the juice out of a melon as Gaston writhed in pain and fought to get free.
Several moments passed and no one moved, afraid to incur the Guildmaster's wrath. A few moments later the Guildmaster seemed to regain some control over his emotions and walked toward Gaston. He stopped two steps in front of Gaston with his arm still up in the air. “You say you have never let me down, but you are forgetting about your failure to recover the gem in Wessex. And now you are telling me you don’t have any idea how to bring down the Philosophers. I won’t let my kingdom be taken away by your incompetence. I will give you another turn of the moon, and not a day more. Do I make myself clear?”
Gaston choked out a response, “Yes, Guildmaster.”
The Guildmaster lowered his arm and turned his back on Gaston as he came crashing to the floor. The Guildmaster casually sat in his chair and took charge of the meeting once again while Gaston stood up in silence along the wall. “My apologies for the outburst. Obviously, these are trying times for all of us. The next few moons will make or break the Guild, and we must be ready to do whatever is necessary. Is there anything else that we need to discuss?”
No one said a word. This was Nero’s first Inner Circle meeting, but he had the strong sense that this had not been a normal meeting. A normal meeting was probably extremely dull, droning on for an entire evening about small details. “Good, then this meeting is adjourned. Thank you for coming.”
The meeting began to break up as the Thirteen left their seats, talking among themselves as they moved out the doors and into the sitting room. The two female Krone made their way slowly back to the Guildmaster’s quarters, talking briefly with the Circle members around them. Nero kept his seat in order to observe everyone’s reaction; he watched the Guildmaster talk with Sirus, Daniel, and finally Lidea.
Nero would have to think long and hard about what to do next. If the Guildmaster had made a pact with the Krone to allow them to use his newly formed kingdom to attack the elves from the surface, then he was not sure he could continue working for the Guild. Eventually, Nero rose from his seat and began walking to the door. All his life Nero had lusted after power and the respect that came with it. Now he was finally getting what he had always wanted, but he also owed everything to Venal. He had given Nero great power that he was supposed to use to destroy the Krone, not give them safe haven on the surface.
Nero heard a voice and was drawn out of his own thoughts to see the Guildmaster standing before him. “Nero, I just wanted to welcome you again to the Inner Circle.”
Nero couldn’t let the Guildmaster see his uncertainty. “Thank you, Guildmaster; it’s an honor.”
“Not at all. You earned it. You have proven to be a valuable asset. In fact, your standing should have been higher among the Thirteen, but it would be unheard of for you to be seated so high at your first Inner Circle meeting. Perhaps next time I will be able to properly reward you. Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Of course, Guildmaster.” The Guildmaster quickly turned away and headed for his quarters, leaving Nero alone in the Circle chamber. Nero stood there thinking about his options for several heartbeats before he shook his head and started preparations for the long trip back to Bethel.
Chapter 40: Trail of Tears
Jon could see the walls of Locus in the distance. By the time the sun was high in the sky they would be safe behind the walls of the third largest city in the Kingdom of Kentar. Not that Locus was much a part of Kentar. Every soldier knew the city was run by the Talon Thieves Guild. It was the worst kept secret in all of Tellus. But to Jon and his six hundred refugees, the city was the golden promised land of the gods. His band of refugees was thirsty and starving. He didn’t know how they had managed to make it this far, but he thanked Sentinel for his kindness in guiding them to relative safety.
Jon thought back to how this gods-forsaken journey had begun at Endwood. He thought back to the ghost, and even now it sent a shiver of horror up his spine. He had seen men killed in battle, but the sight of that ghost sucking the life force out of his soldier in front of the entire town would haunt him for the rest of his days.
Jon had been the last person to leave Endwood with the rearguard. It had not been an orderly retreat where the fleeing army would live to fight another day. No, the retreat from Endwood had been a rout, plain and simple. Everyone in the town had simply left everything behind and run into the woods. Later, Jon rallied the soldiers he could find, and they began rounding up the survivors. He collected more than six hundred men, women, and children, and waited as long as he dared before heading west toward the more settled areas of Kentar. They didn’t have horses or wagons and as a result, the journey was slow. They didn’t have any food or water so starvation was a constant threat.
They had survived on the goodwill of others. That, and the forced hand of the Crown. They passed through two small villages and many farmsteads in the moon’s turn that followed. At each stop, Jon approached the mayor of the town or owner of the farmstead and asked for their mercy. Nearly everyone along the journey took pity on them by opening up their homes to the unfortunate group. For those that opened their homes and towns willingly, Jon asked no more.
There were a few farms and one village that heard Jon’s story and slammed their doors shut. For those to whom mercy was dead inside their souls, Jon did not spare the rod.
The first time Jon had been turned away he failed to press the issue and marched on. Some of those under his care paid the price for his lack of assertiveness. The group was forced to camp out in the open where one child died of thirst, and Jon’s soldiers were forced to fight off their first pack of wolves. Jon set a watch, but the wolves came so suddenly and, in such numbers, that his soldiers could not turn them away. It was difficult to see the animals in the dark, and before they drove the hounds off, two soldiers and two women had been torn apart.
Jon took this failure hard and did not let it happen again. The group needed food, water, and shelter every night or people died. It was that simple. The next time a farmer slammed the door in Jon’s face he surrounded the main house with soldiers and they forced their way in. He did this in turn to each house without charity. He stripped them of everything, but it still was not enough. Some few died along the way, but only the very old or the very young. He had done the best he could in a hopeless situation, and that was a fact.
Now the trial was over. His trail of tears was coming to an end as they approached the eastern gateway of Locus.
The fifteen-foot high walls of the city were made of stone, and the thirty-foot wide gate was made of thick wood reinforced by steel. The gate was made up of two large doors that could be opened to allow merchant wagons into the city. A regular-sized door was cut into the middle of the right hand gate. The gate was closed as they approached. Several soldiers stood on the wall, and they all took notice of the large cluster of refugees outside their gate.
“Ho, who goes there?” called the guard standing directly on top of the gate.
Jon was traveling up front as always and replied, “My name is Jon Campbell; I am a captain in the Army of Kentar. The group behind me is all that remains of the frontier town of Endwood. We request you open your gates so that we may seek food and shelter.”
The trooper looked past Jon and frowned at the number of people in his party. “Wait here while I go and fetch my lieutenant.”
Jon nodded his head and stood in silence as the trooper left the wall in search of his superior. The lowly staff soldier just did not have the authority to open the gates to si
x hundred refugees. His hesitation was understandable. Once the lieutenant arrived, things would go smoothly. After all, they were fellow citizens of Kentar. Surely they would let his group into the city to save their lives. So why did Jon have a sinking feeling in his stomach? Must be hunger.
Eventually the trooper returned with his lieutenant who looked down at them from on top of the wall. “My trooper says you wish to enter the city in order to eat our food and drink our water. Does he tell it true?”
Jon made fists out of his hands and kept his head about him. “What is your name soldier?”
The Lieutenant replied, “Gilmore is my name.”
“Well then, Gilmore, what I told your trooper is that I want you to open your gates so that six hundred of your fellow countrymen, citizens of Kentar all, may seek food and shelter rather than die out here on your doorstep.”
Gilmore scanned the refugees and then looked at Jon with a sort of shameful stubbornness. “Beggin’ your pardon, Captain, but I don’t think that’s likely to happen. We got enough troubles of our own. Why don’t you march on to Jewlian? They’ll be able to take care of you there.”
“We won’t make it to Jewlian and you know it! We have folk starving every day and freezing to death every night.”
“That’s your problem. I got problems of my own.”
Do the Gods Despise Us? Page 4
