by Brad Clark
“Well, it’s clear she’s not dead,” Hargon said when they stepped into the chamber that held the castle’s cells
“Maybe he took her body?”
Hargon strode forward and entered the cell looking around as if an answer would be revealed on the hard floor.
After a moment, he shook his head and said, “No, she had the art of illusion. If she wanted to escape, she would have made Lord Martin think that she was dead.”
“How did she open the cell door? I took the keys from the guards when I relieved them from their duty. Lord Martin is certainly not capable of picking the lock.”
Hargon rubbed his chin and walked to the cell door and pulled it closed, seemingly locking himself in.
“Hargon!” Conner exclaimed, thinking that he was going to lock himself in. In an instant, his mind tumbled through how he was going to have to run back to the armory and find the keys that he had left there.
A moment later, Hargon simply pushed the door open and said, “Oops.”
“Oops?”
Hargon shrugged, and a wry smile fell across his face. “I cast a spell that I thought would secure the lock so that no key could open it. It seems that the spell actually broke the locking mechanism, so it stopped working.”
“So, she just opened the door and walked out?”
“It seems that way,” Hargon replied, making sure to avoid eye-contact with Conner. He did not want Conner to see his face, just in case truth flashed across it. The locking mechanism was indeed broke, but the spell that he had cast on it would have prevented anyone from coming in and would only allow someone to leave. His thought that someone would try and kill Marila was well-founded, and he was happy that she had avoided death and escaped. Hopefully, she hadn’t run too far away.
“Then we better go find her.”
Hargon was already pushing the cell door open and strode past Conner with long, swift strides. “And soon.”
***
Lord Martin glanced back through the open doors of the main hall, just to be sure no one noticed or cared what he was doing. The courtyard was filled with mustering troops who were preoccupied with war preparations. Knights, soldiers, warriors, and fighters of all types were gathering together in a seemingly chaotic mess. Atop the wall Elven archers were firing arrows towards the Deceiver’s army. With rhythmic precision, they dipped the tips of their arrows in a bucket of thick oil and then lit the tips from nearby torches. The flash of light from the flaming arrows streaked through the sky and quickly out of his sight.
His only thoughts were on getting away from the battle that was about to break out. Buried deep inside his hard exterior was a hint of empathy for the men and boys who were about to risk their lives to try and save their world. He couldn’t feel real sorry for them, for they should know that fighting against a god was futile. He knew how pointless it was, which is why he needed to get away. Although he had hoped he would be leading his people to safety to preserve the kingdom, he was resigned to the fact that Karmon as a kingdom was about to come to an end. Eventually, the war would be over, and the survivors would have to work together to rebuild their cities and their lives. It was a shame that the rebuilding process would likely not include many innocent Karmons who would perish in the upcoming battle, but as long as he survived, he would be able to lead the rebuilding efforts. There were still many small villages to the south that were untouched by the Deceiver’s army, and he would head there to help them band together to rebuild. Maybe even in the rubble of South Karmon, he would be able to start the kingdom anew.
As he walked briskly through the castle’s corridors, outside sounds disappeared. All he heard were his heavy footfalls. No one else was in the castle, for everyone was doing their bit to prepare for battle. He was just glad that he had the foresight to escape out through the secret back entrance so that he could preserve the kingdom’s leadership.
Focused on escaping, he turned a sharp corner and ran directly into Rufus. Rufus’ solid frame did not budge when they made contact, and Lord Martin bounced back one step.
“What are you doing?” Rufus asked. There was a smile on his face because he recognized that he had scared Lord Martin half out of his wits.
Lord Martin’s heart pounded hard, and his face turned beet red. Barely stammering out his words, Lord Martin cried out, “What am I doing? I am looking for you, of course! You were supposed to bring me a satchel of supplies a long time ago!”
Rufus shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been busy.” He held out a leather sack for Lord Martin to take.
Lord Martin snatched it and quickly looked inside, and then said in a demanding voice, “Doing what?”
“There’s a battle to be fought if you had not noticed,” Rufus replied. “Not all of us will be escaping out the secret back door.”
“Shush!” Lord Martin snapped, looking about to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. He had not seen anyone since he had entered the castle, so it would be unlikely that their loud voices would be heard by anyone. Still, he lowered his voice and said, “Someone must escape to rebuild after this war is over.”
Rufus opened his mouth to ask Lord Martin if he really believed there would be any reason to rebuild after the war, but he quickly clamped it shut. The Deceiver’s army was nearly insurmountable, and the resulting devastation would be complete. He held a little bit of admiration for the lord’s optimism, but it would be quickly extinguished once the fighting began. In some ways, he felt sorry for Lord Martin, for he was so adamant in his beliefs, but they were so far from reality.
Instead of saying what he really wanted to say, Rufus went along with Lord Martin’s hopeful perspective. “Well, you’re just the man to rebuild Karmon.”
“Of course, I am! Now lead me to this secret exit!”
Rufus kept a sly smile on his face as he turned and starting walking quickly down the corridor. He kept his pace just fast enough that Lord Martin had to jog every few steps to keep up. Eventually, he did slow down so that Lord Martin didn’t have to run to keep pace, but he never stopped even when Lord Martin begged him to.
“I don’t think you know where you are going,” Lord Martin growled out after he realized they had crossed through the same corridor twice.
“We were seen coming in,” Rufus said softly. He had indeed led Lord Martin through the castle in a way that not only would they be able to know if someone was following them, but also to prevent Lord Martin from ever finding his own way to the back exit. Some secrets simply were too valuable to reveal. “If we had headed directly towards the back exit, someone who knows where the exit is might have noticed. We’ve now traveled throughout the castle, and if anyone saw us, they would have no idea where you were headed to or think that you escaped out the back.”
Lord Martin let out a grunt of acknowledgment. “Fine. Are we even close?”
“Soon.”
Rufus continued for only a few more minutes before he came to a stop at a cross junction with another corridor. He had led Lord Martin around long enough, and he had other activities to attend to. “It is time for us to part ways.”
“We’re here? Where? I don’t see any doors!”
Rufus pointed down the corridor. “At the end of the corridor, go right. At the end of that corridor is the exit. It is usually locked and barred shut, but I have taken care of that. I picked the lock, so you should be able to just pull up on the bar, and you’ll be able to leave the castle.”
Lord Martin warily looked down the corridor. It was unlit and foreboding.
Rufus noticed the look on Lord Martin’s face and said, “It’s a secret exit. It’s not supposed to be well-lit. Don’t worry. The light from this corridor will allow you to see enough to get to the door.”
Lord Martin hefted the sack back onto his shoulders. It was heavier than he expected, and his arms and shoulders were hurting. He tried to ignore the pain, for he knew that there was a long journey ahead of him.
“Thank you, Rufus,” Lord Mart
in said genuinely. “I hope that when the war is over, we can see one another again.”
This time it was Rufus who let out a grunt. “We shall see. You better hurry. The battle is about to begin.”
Lord Martin started walking and then turned. “You are sure you don’t want to join me? It is certain death to stay in the castle.”
“That may be so, but I am not going to run away, at least not yet. As long as there is a chance for victory, I will stay and fight.”
Lord Martin gave an agreeable nod. “That is admirable, and not quite what I expected from you.”
Rufus laughed. “You know little about me!”
“I know you like gold.”
“We all have a price,” Rufus said. Then, he turned and walked away.
Lord Martin thought his response and tone were slightly off. Just as he was about to shout after Rufus, movement in the shadows at the end of the corridor caught his eye. His head snapped around, and he shouted, “Hey! What are you doing?”
Rufus was halfway down the corridor when he heard Lord Martin shout. He turned, thinking that Lord Martin was talking to him. Then he saw the fat lord pointing down the corridor towards the secret exit. Sprinting, he dashed past Lord Martin and ran into the shadows. A young man in a simple wool tunic was crouched low, tucked into the corner of the corridor. Rufus grabbed him by the front of his tunic and yanked him to his feet.
Lord Martin ran down the corridor, huffing, and puffing. When he reached them, Rufus had drawn his sword and was about to strike him down when Lord Martin shouted, “No! Don’t kill him!”
“He’s seen you,” Rufus said, his eyes fierce and angry.
“He is harmless,” Lord Martin replied, looking the young man up and down. He was dressed lightly for the time of year. Even if it were the middle of summer, nighttime in the mountains would get cool enough that a blanket would be needed. “He is just scared and wants to run away.”
Wide-eyed, the young man crouched down and nodded his head.
“What’s your name?”
The young man looked from Lord Martin to Rufus, and then back again. After a moment, in a high-pitched, shaky voice, he replied, “Lars.”
“Lars, you have no provisions. You have no warm clothes. You will be dead after the first cold night if the wolves don’t get you first.”
Lars nodded at Lord Martin and said, “You have stuff. I can take yours.”
Lord Martin laughed. “No, these are for me.”
“Not if I take them.”
Rufus pointed his sword at Lars. “I’ll kill him, now.”
Lord Martin considered his options. If he let Lars go, the young boy could tell someone that he left, but that would only matter after the battle was over. However, if Lars was killed and his body was found, that would undoubtedly draw undue suspicion to this part of the castle. Although the idea of killing Lars was not appealing, it did seem like it was the only option.
“You’ll have to dispose of the body,” Lord Martin said. He didn’t like having to make tough decisions, but he knew this was the right one.
“Of course.”
Rufus moved quickly, but Lars moved quicker. Lars had lowered himself down into a squatting position, and as soon as Rufus started his attack, Lars sprang up with surprising speed. Rufus tried to quickly change his thrust to a slash as Lars raced past him, but he was too slow. He only managed to slice through empty air.
Lord Martin let out a screech and stumbled backward out of the way, tossing his sack of supplies across the floor, spilling their contents. Lars did not hesitate and sprinted past Lord Martin, but after three steps, he slid to a stop.
Hargon, his black robes flowing in an unbidden breeze, stood in the center of the corridor. His hands were outstretched, and instead of his customary balls of fire, bluish-white tendrils of electricity danced from his fingertips. With hair flowing in that unseen breeze, Hargon thrust his hands out at Lars and streaks of the blue and white light struck the young man. Lars let out a high-pitched screech that didn’t match his appearance, and fell to the ground, twisting and kicking at the pain that exploded through his body.
Lord Martin watched, mouth agape, as the blue and white light enveloped Lars, and then the young man’s body began to blink. A moment later, Lars was replaced by the grayish lithe body of Marila in her natural form. As soon as she appeared, Hargon stopped the electricity.
Marila tried to push herself up onto her feet, but her arms and legs were too weak, and she flopped onto the corridor’s floor.
Hargon walked up to Lord Martin and patted him on his back. “Well, congratulations, Lord Martin. You found Marila and kept her from escaping. How courageous of you!”
Lord Martin was caught aback at Hargon’s words. He straightened up to appear taller and cleared his throat. With a deeper voice than normal, he said, “You expected anything less?”
Rufus yanked Marila to her feet. He kept a close watch on her, expecting her to resist, but she did not.
“Rufus,” Lord Martin said in an attempt at a commanding voice. “Take her back to her cell. This time, chain her to the cell so she can’t escape.”
Rufus gave Marila a sharp tug to get her moving. After Rufus took two steps, Hargon stepped in front of him.
“Hold up for a moment,” Hargon said. “What are you two doing in this part of the castle, anyway?”
Rufus glanced at Lord Martin, hoping he would speak up.
“Well, we were looking for Marila, of course. And sure enough, we found her.”
“Really? What is all this that’s scattered across the floor?”
“Her supplies,” Rufus interjected. “She was ready to sneak out of the castle, and unlike the last time, she wanted to make sure she had provisions.”
Hargon walked forward and stood next to Rufus. Although Rufus was taller by half a head, had broader shoulders and a tougher demeanor, he was the one who took a step back from the black-robed Human mag. Hargon took Marila by the upper arm and gave her a gentle pull towards himself. “Her cell could not hold her, and she seems to know her way around the castle. I cannot trust her to be with anyone else besides myself so I will take her from here.” He turned to Marila and said, “You should change to your Human appearance. We don’t want to startle any archer with an itchy finger.”
Marila did not respond at all. She didn’t even lift her gaze from the floor.
Hargon squeezed his hand on her arm. She did not react, and he was sure that he was probably not strong enough to hurt her. In a voice just above a whisper so all could hear, he hissed, “How about if I start up a small fireball and put it the palm of my hand, and then squeeze your arm. Do you think the fire will hurt at all?”
She took a step towards him. He relaxed his grip, so it wasn’t squeezing her, but he kept his fingers firmly around her upper arm.
“That’s more like it,” he said to Marila. “You and I have some work to do.”
Hargon started to walk away with Marila in tow, but then he stopped. With a smile on his face, he turned to look at Lord Martin and said, “It’s a good thing that she didn’t try and leave, as there is a spell on the door. The Elves did that. They can be quite devious with their spells. Anyone leaving, or coming, will get quite a nasty surprise.” He saw the expressions on their faces and continued, “You don’t think we’d leave the secret back entrance unprotected, do you?”
Hargon let his words linger for a moment before leaving with Marila.
Lord Martin remained still until he was sure Hargon was out of earshot, then he turned to Rufus and said, “Pick up my stuff, and let’s get out of here.”
Rufus let out a soft chuckle. “Pick up your own stuff, and didn’t you hear what he said?”
“I’ve paid you a lot of gold. Do what I ask! I have heard nothing of any spells or anything. If the Elves had done that, I would have heard of it.”
“They’ve kept you out of all of their war council battle planning. How would you know anything that’s going on?”
> “I am a part of the leadership of this kingdom!” Lord Martin stammered out, his face flushing red. “If they would have done something, I would have heard of it!”
Rufus shook his head and started walking away, leaving Lord Martin alone with his supplies still scattered across the floor.
“Rufus! Come back here, now!”
Rufus shook his head and continued to walk away, leaving Lord Martin all alone.
“Fine, then! I’ll pick up all this stuff myself!”
Through much grunting and groaning, Lord Martin picked up his scattered supplies and shoved them back into his sack. Once he was all done, he took a moment to catch his breath. Then he walked briskly to the door that led toward the secret exit. Rumor had it that it was stronger than the castle’s outer walls, which is why it had never been breached. It seemed like a simple door, but it made out of bands of iron interlaced together. It would take an incredible force to burst through it. Several iron bars had once been laid across the door that would have further prevented the door from being open. All but one had been removed and a simple lock, which had been recently picked, held that last once in place. He placed his hands on the cold iron bar and started it lift it up, but the memory of the words of Hargon held his hand. It was not only the words but the tone.
Lord Martin’s mind worked too hard, and it was now a jumbled, chaotic mess. Had the Elves really put a spell on the door? His hands became sweaty, and a hot flash passed over him, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. Visions of what could happen to him filled his thoughts, and he pulled his hands away from the iron bad and stumbled backward. He knew he was a coward, but the thought of the possibility of giving up his life for the chance of survival was even too much for him.
With his sack thrown over his shoulders, he jogged down the corridor, trying to get away from the door as quickly as he could.
Chapter Fifteen
Conner pushed his way through the courtyard. It had become more crowded since he last left it. There was a suppressed anxiousness hanging in the air. Soldiers and Elven warriors stood stoically and with reserved excitement. Everyone else was excitedly talking, suppressing a fear of death that would have otherwise rendered them frozen. About three steps into the crowd, Hargon had shouted for them to split up to find Marila. The former emperor raced off in one direction while Conner pushed his way into the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of her long, dark hair. There were too many people, and it would have been easy for her to get lost in the crowd, but he did his best to search her out.
