A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  “I have heard so much of the notorious Iltar and his band of adventurers,” Elsia said, smiling.

  “She’s going to help with the research,” Pagus said, sounding proud. “Aunty Elsia is very scholarly.”

  That didn’t please Iltar. He raised his brow disapprovingly as he let go of Elsia’s hand. Iltar wanted to keep his research a secret, but now Pagus had indiscriminately involved someone else. Iltar didn’t know this woman. How could he trust her?

  “I am intrigued,” Elsia said. “I spent several years of my youth studying Soron Thahan, but I’ve never heard of him making prophecies. Nor that he wrote a book about it. My nephew insists that these texts of yours are authentic.”

  “They are,” Iltar said, not amused. He scowled at Pagus.

  “I would like to read them,” Elsia said, then hurriedly added, “with your supervision, of course.”

  The Yaelinum slowed and turned. The view out the aft windows shifted from the eastern ocean to the southern horizon. Some of Soroth’s piers were visible out the starboard windows.

  “Pagus has told me of your lack of trust with others,” Elsia said with a sigh. She was obviously trying to pick her words carefully. “And I’m willing to do whatever you wish in order to gain your trust.”

  Whatever he wished? That piqued Iltar’s interest. He eyed the woman for a moment, then glanced to Pagus. “Anything?” Iltar asked, narrowing his eyes at Elsia.

  “Anything,” Elsia said, leaving her mouth partway open. She eyed Iltar with a longing gaze. Was she trying to seduce him? No one had ever looked at him like that, except Anela…

  “So, what shall it be?” Elsia asked, stepping close to Iltar. She put her long fingers on his shoulder.

  “This,” Iltar said, then quickly but precisely uttered the words to an incantation. Gray particles appeared within his right hand, the manifestation of enthralling magic. There was only one way to learn of her sincerity—a mind-control spell.

  Elsia’s eyes widened, but she didn’t flinch. Iltar half-expected her to step away, or run. But she did neither. Elsia just stood there, waiting. Surprisingly, Pagus stood still, watching the magic coalesce.

  Within seconds the magic formed and Iltar reached for Elsia’s face. The enthralling magic wisped into her mouth, nose, and ears. Elsia’s expression turned blank as Iltar took over her mind, as it became totally subservient.

  “What are your true intentions with me?” Iltar asked. Pagus stood beside him, completely silent. How out of character for the boy…

  “I crave truth,” Elsia said in a mindless monotone. “I want to know the secrets of Kalda. Secrets that only you know.”

  “Why?” Iltar demanded.

  “Because knowledge is power, and I crave power just as much as I crave truth.”

  “Will you betray me?”

  “Only if you harm me or my kin,” Elsia admitted. That was expected. “But no. I know your reputation. You’re not a person one should double-cross.” A good answer, but that still wasn’t enough to win Iltar’s trust. “Who else knows about this trip?” Iltar asked.

  “My husband and my brother,” Elsia answered.

  “Will you keep the truth of this entire trip a secret?”

  “I will,” Elsia said.

  Iltar nodded. He was pleased with the answers thus far. “Now, how do you plan to rectify the lie Pagus has set into motion, about your death?”

  “It is simple,” Elsia said, still speaking in a monotone. “Our passing was orchestrated to thwart assassins. When we return to society, we’ll declare this as truth.”

  “And how are you going to explain the trip to Mindolarn?” Iltar didn’t want to leave any loose ends.

  “We had a lead that the assassins were headquartered there. I used the protocol of our land inheritance to lure you aboard. You were to protect me while we drew out the assassins. And then, you’d kill them. You’re good at that sort of thing.”

  Iltar was impressed. Elsia and Pagus had thought this through. A lie within a lie. Quite good. That satisfied Iltar, but he still wanted to know the answer to one more question. “If I asked you to sleep with me to prove your loyalty, would you?”

  “Yes,” Elsia said, “if that is what you needed to gain my trust.”

  Iltar grunted in amusement. Sarn women weren’t that different from Sorothian women: willing to sleep with a man in order to get what they wanted. Iltar waved his hand, dismissing the mesmerizing spell.

  Elsia sucked in a deep breath and wobbled backward. “Whoa… I’ve… never experienced that.” Elsia sounded unnerved.

  “You have my trust,” Iltar said.

  Elsia smiled. “Thank you, Master Iltar.”

  “I’m glad that’s out of the way,” Pagus said with a sigh of relief.

  The Yaelinum was now moving northward, making its way along the eastern shores of the Isle of Soroth.

  “Pagus, gather the boys,” Iltar said. “It’s time to tell them what we’re really doing.”

  “A band of twenty-four descend into the pit, led by abominable creatures. They go to their deaths.”

  - Prophecy of Soron Thahan

  Cornar knew he was dreaming again. The Promised Maiden was still in open waters, but he stood in the darkened streets of a city. Cornar couldn’t tell which city, but it was quite busy.

  “Breyen!” a voice called from across the street. Cornar glimpsed a man waving at the door to a tavern; light from inside spilled into the street, faintly illuminating passersby.

  “Breyen!” the man shouted and then stalked across the street toward Cornar. Was that man trying to talk to him?

  “Breyen, what are you doing just standing there?” the man demanded, slapping Cornar’s arm. “The other generals are waiting.”

  Cornar simply raised an eyebrow. A general named Breyen? Breyen Haliurclast? he wondered. Breyen Haliurclast was one of the men who had liberated Tor. When Cornar was a child, his father told him stories of General Haliurclast’s exploits. The man was a brilliant tactician. But Cornar couldn’t be that man, could he? “I think you have me mistaken for someone else,” Cornar said.

  “Really?” the man asked, laughing. “Who else has a scar across their left eye in the shape of a fishing hook?” Cornar just looked at the man. The scar was a trait General Haliurclast was said to possess. Perhaps he should play along? This was a dream after all, wasn’t it? What harm could it do?

  Sighing, Cornar reluctantly nodded and pointed to the tavern. “Are they in there?”

  “Uh-huh,” the man pursed his lips.

  They crossed the street and entered the tavern. Smells of alcohol washed from the common room, enveloping Cornar. The dream was so vivid, it was as if he were in the tavern.

  “This way,” the man said, heading down a hallway beside the entrance.

  Cornar lingered for a moment, taking in the intense nature of the dream. He had experienced nothing like this besides reliving those horrific events of Tergol’s sacking. Was there something important to these dreams?

  “Are you coming?”

  Shaking off the thought, Cornar hurried down the hall. Both he and the man climbed the stairs and entered a private dining chamber, the upper room of the tavern. Seven others—including his father, Melthas Dol’shir—sat around a table. Adrin was there as well, looming over a map. Both looked the same as they had in his other dream.

  Cornar eyed the other five, starting at the sight of Kandish Loush. “Kandish…” he whispered, eyeing the familiar man. Kandish sat at the table, rubbing his bald chin. The merchant’s brown eyes stared at the map Adrin was studying. Sighing, Kandish ran his freehand through his wavy dark-brown hair. Kandish was a merchant, not a fighter. Cornar hadn’t thought him heavyset as a child, but seeing Kandish now changed his opinion.

  “You’re late, Breyen,” Melthas said with a strict tone. Cornar had only heard his father speak that way once. Cornar had done something to evoke his father’s displeasure—what, he couldn’t remember—but the tone stung in such a
way that Cornar decided he never wanted to hear it again.

  “I’m sorry,” Cornar said.

  “I suppose we can begin?” Kandish asked, raising his thick eyebrows at Melthas.

  Melthas nodded.

  “So he was last spotted on the shores of Laelin Lake,” Adrin said, pointing at a map. Cornar took a step closer. It was a map of the Mindolarn Empire. “He has been holed up in the castle between the forest and the river.”

  “How do you know this, Adrin?” one of the men asked.

  “Adrin has a reliable source,” Melthas said in a monotone.

  “Agents of the Order?” another asked.

  Adrin didn’t reply.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Melthas said. “All you need to know is that the source is reliable.”

  The other men, the generals of Tor, grumbled. They seemed displeased by accepting facts blindly. But who wouldn’t? Cornar hated lacking all the facts for a battle scenario.

  “We don’t have much time to strike,” Adrin said. “His movements have been sporadic. He doesn’t stay in one place for long.”

  “The Castle of Laelin Lake isn’t an easy target,” one of the men spoke up. “It’ll be hard to breech its walls. And the castle has a garrison of a thousand.”

  “You’ll need at least a brigade to lay siege sufficiently,” another general said. “How are you going to get that many men across the border?”

  The other generals debated with Adrin and Melthas about their strategy. Two of them wanted to wait. Their target, a Mindolarn prince named Alegar—the same who had ordered the attack on Tergol—would undoubtedly move to another location. The generals suggested ambushing Alegar once he left Laelin Lake. Melthas was not fond of that suggestion. In fact, the suggestion evoked a rage Cornar had never seen in his father.

  They debated the subject for a while until Kandish spoke, quelling the rising hostilities. “I say attack the castle,” Kandish said. “It can be infiltrated. A siege will only cost lives. A surgical strike is best.”

  “Your suggestion seems too idyllic, Kandish,” one of the generals said. “No offense, but you should stick to what you’re good at. Commerce. Let us deal with the strategy.”

  Adrin sucked in his breath, looking flustered. “No, Za-Kandish has a point. We can stealthily breech the castle. We’d only need a small strike force of Tor’s Elites. Eighty or so should do.”

  “That’s foolhardy,” one of the generals said. He stood and walked to the door. “I’m getting a drink. Hopefully you’ll be onto serious matters when I return.”

  Melthas glared at the man as he left, then studied the others, his hostile expression meant for each of them.

  “Do you even have to go at all?” Cornar asked, but immediately regretted the question.

  Melthas stared straight at Cornar. “I cannot believe you just proposed that, Breyen. And here I thought you were in support of this attack?”

  Cornar flinched, but spoke up boldly. “Think of your children, Melthas. You put yourself in danger by seeking this prince. Shouldn’t you set your vengeance aside?”

  The others looked dumbfounded, except Kandish.

  “I thought we already established that Melthas wasn’t backing down,” Kandish said, turning toward Cornar.

  “Perhaps we should revisit that option,” Cornar said. “What if you don’t come back? Then your children will be orphans.”

  Melthas shook his head. “Breyen, you’re my strongest supporter. Why have you suddenly decided to flip your opinion?”

  Because I’m your son, and I don’t want you to die. No, he couldn’t say that.

  “Prince Alegar deserves a painful death,” Melthas scowled. “By my hand!”

  Melthas sighed and stalked out of the room.

  “Perhaps we need to break,” Kandish suggested, clearing his throat.

  The other generals nodded and left the room. Soon, only Cornar and Kandish remained.

  Cornar sat beside the aging merchant, pleased to see Kandish again. Cornar regretted walking out on the man all those years ago after Melthas’s passing. Kandish had offered to take Cornar, Galana, and baby Kalder in as his own. Kandish didn’t have any children. He wasn’t even married. But he was like a grandfather to Cornar.

  Cornar had promised to return, and he did visit the merchant once after he married Karenna. He intended to see Kandish again, but by the time he made it back to Tor, Kandish had died. That was twenty years ago. Cornar had regretted his lack of interest in visiting the old merchant.

  “You struck a sore spot,” Kandish said, glancing to Cornar. “He’s made up his mind. None of us can sway him.”

  “You don’t agree with him?” Cornar asked.

  “No,” Kandish said. “Vengeance will only lead him down a dark path. I’d hoped that Adrin would deter Melthas’s rage, but Adrin is encouraging it. Adrin also despises the Mindolarn Empire and would see them destroyed. I fear for both of them, actually…” Kandish trailed off, staring at the wall. He looked like a parent dismayed over wayward children.

  It seemed odd to Cornar that his dreams captured the essence of someone he hadn’t seen in over three decades. It was as if Cornar were sitting beside the actual Kandish Loush. But this couldn’t be Kandish. He was dead. Perhaps this dream was his mind’s effort to alleviate regret.

  “I’m sorry,” Cornar said. “I’ve felt for years that I disappointed you, Kandish.” Kandish simply looked at Cornar, setting his jaw. “I wish I had returned to visit more often,” Cornar confessed. “You were so kind to take Galana, Kalder, and me in after my father died. Our disappearance was like spitting in your face.”

  Kandish grinned with half his mouth. He always did that when amused.

  “Don’t worry about that, Cor,” Kandish said.

  Cornar jumped. Was the dream actually talking back to him? Him, not Breyen. But why this sudden change? Why did Kandish call him by his real name and not Breyen?

  “I don’t have any resentment for your decisions,” Kandish continued. “You were young and distraught.”

  Tears welled in Cornar’s eyes. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course,” Kandish said with a comforting smile. “You were forgiven years ago. Besides, if you hadn’t left you wouldn’t be the man you are today. You need to be that man for what is to come.” Cornar felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. But what did Kandish mean? “Might I give you some counsel, Cor?” Kandish asked, though he wasn’t seeking permission. He would speak his mind, regardless. “Heed these dreams. Your experiences in Vabenack will prove fortuitous if you play along.”

  Play along? What did that mean?

  “Many answers for the future can be found in the past,” Kandish continued. “You may just find something of importance that will change the course of this expedition.”

  “The expedition?” Cornar muttered. Was this some kind of external introspection he was experiencing?

  “Yes,” Kandish said, still smiling. “To Klindil and beyond. Let your dreams guide you. You’ll need the insight if you don’t want to end up dead.”

  Cornar blinked and studied Kandish. Kandish wasn’t talking like himself anymore. Something seemed odd about the way Kandish sat, and his expression was unsettling. Kandish’s brown eyes evoked an eerie sensation.

  Unnerved, Cornar stood and backed to the door.

  “Afraid, Cor?” Kandish asked with feigned concern. “And here I thought you’d enjoy this breaking of the fourth wall. You know I’ve made these experiences just for you.”

  A surge of fear shot through Cornar. There were no windows in the room, only the door. The door! Cornar burst out of the upper room and darted into the hallway. He hurried down the stairs and back into the main part of the tavern. The common room lacked the scents of alcohol he had smelled when first entering. And it was empty! Where were all the people?

  Must get out! Cornar’s heart pumped wildly. Cornar threw the tavern door open and dashed into the street. Rain pelted him and pooled in the cracks betwee
n cobblestones. A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating dark-red clouds. Red clouds?

  Where in Heleron’s name was he?

  “I have to wake up,” Cornar said, looking about. The street was empty. The previous hustle and bustle was just gone. He took off, bolting down the street.

  More lightning streaked across the sky.

  Cornar ran for what seemed hours. He didn’t tire. He just ran. The city was endless. If Cornar was in Tor, he was in some twisted version of it. Streets wound back and forth but never seemed to end.

  More lightning surged across the sky, striking the road in front of Cornar. The lightning lingered, growing in intensity. More bolts struck from the clouds, widening the persistent lightning. Then, a silhouette appeared within the ever-present lightning strike. It looked like a tall man in a robe.

  “Calm yourself, Cor,” a voice boomed from the silhouette in the lightning.

  “What in Heleron’s name are you?!” Cornar shouted. A surge of panic pumped through his veins.

  “Heleron?” the voice boomed with laughter. “You shouldn’t swear the name of such a petty creature.”

  Cornar instinctively reached for his serrated dagger and short-sword, but neither weapon was there.

  “As I said before,” the voice boomed. “I have crafted these experiences for your profit and learning. They are to guide you on this quest you have undertaken. I could give you the answers, but it is better that you learn firsthand.”

  More lightning surged across the sky, striking the persistent bolt. Dozens more struck, then hundreds. Thunder resounded in a culminating explosion, blinding Cornar’s vision.

  He felt himself falling.

  “Heed these experiences,” the same voice boomed. “Or you’ll die. Beware the evil behind the eyes of allies.”

  An abysmal blackness engulfed Cornar, and he continued falling. Cornar fell for what seemed thousands of grand phineals before he snapped awake. He gasped for breath and sat up, frantically studying his surroundings.