by E J Gilmour
‘There’s a greater plan at work.’
‘Can you help us? You say that I have brought hope to Zyran; would you help that hope?’ Baftel drew a long breath and then whispered something they could not hear. A long silence followed before he answered.
‘I will take you back to Ortaria if you succeed.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cassiel, bowing to the old man.
‘You will have to come and tell me when I should be ready for the journey.’
‘I will,’ said Cassiel.
**
They walked back toward the inn and Cassiel seemed troubled by some of the things that Baftel had said.
‘Who is he?’ asked Eben, curious to know more.
‘Baftel was once the leader of the Seers of Zyran. They were a minor fraternity within the Zyranian Order. They focused on developing an ability to see the true nature of what lies beneath the surface and what lies beyond normal perception. Five years ago Baftel was accused of using his powers to plot against the Zyranian Order. He was banished from the Citadel and cast out of the Zyranian Order. I’m concerned that he has foreseen trouble ahead for us.’
‘Could we be walking into a trap?’ asked Eben.
‘Perhaps,’ said Cassiel uneasily.
‘Should we change our plan?’
‘No, the longer we stay here the more at risk we are. This is our one chance,’ he said as they reached the door of The Lost Mermaid.
**
At noon the four friends were seated in a small private room that was set off from the main common room. The table was large and hardly fit into the confined space. Falsig was seated across from them and was grinning slyly. They all felt uncomfortable in his presence. His pungent body odour drifted across the table.
‘I assume you are ready to start the undertaking at any moment,’ said Falsig. He slurped on a large mug of ale.
‘That’s correct,’ said Cassiel with a stony expression.
‘Good. Tonight there is a banquet in the hall of the Citadel and nearly all the Zyranians will attend. I’ve brought a group of servants up from the village to help with preparations and to work in the kitchen. Tonight, shortly after nightfall, I will let the servants out through the supply gate to return home to the village. Wait by the gate; I’ll let you in after I let them out.’
He took another gulp of his ale and a moment later burped. Stella averted her eyes in disgust. Falsig saw her expression and smirked. ‘There are a few conditions,’ he continued. ‘If you get caught you never knew me, and be sure I will not let you out of the gate without getting my share of the loot. If you try anything shifty I’ll have you buried.’
‘We will be waiting at the gate after dark,’ said Cassiel.
‘I’ll see the four of you tonight.’ Falsig skulled his remaining ale. He then stood up and nodded with approval before walking from the small room. A moment later he was gone.
‘He is the foulest man I have ever met,’ said Stella, grimacing at the thought of him.
‘What do you think?’ asked Eben, looking across to Cassiel.
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Cassiel. ‘But this is our only chance to free King Ignis. I will tell Baftel to be ready to leave tonight.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
They hid in the shadows about fifty feet from the wall and were huddled behind a group of shrubs. The supply gate was a rectangular wooden door that stood about ten feet high at the base of the wall. The gate was closed and the Citadel was completely silent. From their place behind the shrubs they had a wide view of the area. They waited and watched. Eben could sense the feeling of anticipation was growing among the small company. He looked up to the top of the wall high above and saw a brigade of guards passing by.
‘I don’t like this,’ said Red.
‘Be quiet,’ whispered Stella.
The gate opened. Lantern light lit up the gateway. The group of servants who were carrying small lanterns stepped out and scurried away along the outer base of the wall in the direction of the village. Falsig stood alone in the dark entrance holding a large lantern.
‘Let’s go,’ whispered Cassiel. They followed him quickly across to the gate.
‘Come on,’ whispered Falsig with urgency as they approached. He ushered them inside and locked the gate behind them. ‘You’re on your own now. I’ll be across the way. I will wait here until you return.’
Falsig walked away leaving them in the dark just inside the gate. Eben looked up at the amazing sight above. The stone towers rose high into the dark sky. Many stone bridges crossed from tower to tower; some not far from the cobblestoned streets and others hundreds of feet above. Lanterns lit the bridges and lanes below providing a soft light that permeated the entire Citadel.
‘Let’s move,’ whispered Cassiel. He hastily led them away from the gate. They kept to the shadows as they followed Cassiel into a small alleyway that wound back toward the main front gate. The lanes and squares were completely empty. Eben looked ahead and saw that the alley came to an end and opened into a large square. Cassiel stopped just before they reached the end of the alley. He glanced around the corner. The area beyond was dimly lit by several street lanterns, and down the way they could see the main gate. Just across the square was the base of a tower that rose high into the sky. Eben looked up and could see a bridge spanned a gap of fifty feet between the larger tower and a smaller tower further into the Citadel. The bridge was about a hundred feet above the square.
‘That’s the Gatekeeper’s tower,’ whispered Cassiel, pointing to the tower across the square. He looked at Stella. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Of course,’ replied Stella confidently.
‘See the window above the door where the bridge meets the tower. The door will be locked and probably have a trap; you must be careful. The arched window above the door should take you into the main chamber where the key would be kept. Trebax should be at the banquet, but there is still a chance he is in there.’
Stella looked up and her green eyes flickered in the faint lantern light. She took from her bag a pair of leather gloves and a long coiled rope with a grappling hook.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ asked Red nervously.
‘No,’ she whispered as she prepared her ropes.
‘We will be waiting for you here,’ whispered Cassiel.
She entered the square and edged along the near wall until she was standing directly beneath the bridge. They watched as she took the rope and started swinging it in large loops. A moment later she released the hook. The grappling hook flew upward with total accuracy and hooked onto the railing of the bridge. Stella pulled the rope tight, and a moment later she was ascending the rope with amazing skill. Within a minute she had reached the bridge. She climbed over the stone railing and hastily took from her bag a second rope and hook. She walked toward the Gatekeeper’s tower and looked up at the window above.
With a small swing she sent the second rope over the ledge of the window and an instant later she was climbing. She reached the window and stood for a moment in the opening. They watched as she stepped into the tower and was gone from sight.
‘She’s amazing,’ whispered Red, staring up in wonder.
A little time passed and she didn’t reappear. Eben kept his eyes fixed on the window. Red’s expression of wonder was gradually turning to one of concern. A few more moments passed and still nothing happened.
‘She’s probably in trouble,’ whispered Red anxiously. He started to move toward the first rope.
Cassiel grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving the dark alleyway. ‘Wait,’ he said firmly.
A moment later Stella leapt from the window and grasped the rope as she flew through the air and slid down to the bridge in a matter of seconds. They watched as she ran across the bridge and quickly climbed over the edge. She glided down the first rope to the square below. There was no sign of anyone chasing her. She ran over to them and was holding the crystal key.
‘He was there; he saw m
e as I was leaving,’ she said as she looked back up to the window high above. They all looked up and could see the silhouette of a robed man in the window.
‘Quick, let’s go,’ said Cassiel.
They dashed along the alleyway in the direction they had come. They ran through the narrow laneways and squares and took many turns to the left and right. The laneways of the Citadel were like a maze. Eben had lost all sense of direction. They suddenly stopped before rounding a final corner.
‘Just ahead of us is the gate to the Dungeons of Zyran. We must act quickly before Trebax raises the alarm. We have no time for any delay,’ said Cassiel.
Eben took the sleeping darts from his bag. They looked around the corner toward the prison entrance. Directly ahead of them was a round cobblestoned area about forty yards in diameter. On the far side there was a large iron door with no apparent handle.
‘The wizard guards are gone,’ stuttered Cassiel, his eyes scanning the area ahead. He turned to Eben with a deep frown; a moment later the blood drained from his face. ‘It’s a trap,’ he cried.
They looked back the way they had come and saw a group of robed wizards approaching with a large number of guardsmen. Across the open area they could see other wizards were approaching from the opposite alleyway that led to the prison gate. Flames started blasting toward them. Cassiel raised his hands and created an invisible shield. The onslaught of fire smashed against the unseen barrier. There was no escape.
‘Into the prison!’ shouted Red, grabbing Stella’s hand, he led her quickly across to the door. Eben and Cassiel followed as Stella took the key and touched it to the dungeon door. The door started to slowly open. Eben drew his sword as the Zyranian wizards rushed from the alleyways behind them. Stella and Red backed away inside the prison and were out of sight moments later. Cassiel raised both hands and sent multiple blasts of fire at the approaching wizards. The Zyranian wizards instantly retaliated. A blazing torrent of fire blasted through the air toward them. Eben and Cassiel leapt into the prison only just avoiding the onslaught. A moment later Red slammed the door as the powerful surge of fire and energy smashed against it.
They stood in the dimly lit entrance chamber. On the opposite side of the chamber was a stairwell which led down into the dungeon below. The enchanted walls glowed around them. Cassiel leaned against the door, hanging his head low. He crouched down and stared at the stone floor. ‘The entire Zyranian Order will be out there waiting for us. They must have known we were going to try to steal the key and allowed us to. I think the only reason they let us take the key was because they wanted to make sure they caught all of us.’
‘We’re safe in here though. There’s no way they can enter the dungeon,’ said Red, trying to be positive about the situation.
‘But how will we get out of here?’ asked Eben.
‘We should free King Ignis,’ said Stella.
‘But we won’t be able to leave with him now that the Zyranians know we are here. We are completely trapped,’ said Cassiel.
‘We should free the King; perhaps he can help,’ said Eben as he walked toward the stairwell.
Red, Stella, and Eben walked down the stairs. Cassiel followed. The stairwell led about fifty feet down through solid rock and opened into a large subterranean passageway that was about a hundred feet long with iron doors lining both sides of the way. There were at least twenty cell doors.
‘We must be careful and ensure we don’t free the wrong person. Who knows what’s behind each door,’ said Red as he led them along the passageway.
‘King Ignis is in the last cell,’ said Cassiel as he came into the passage from the stairwell. They walked to the door that Cassiel had indicated. Stella took the key and touched it to the door; a moment later the cell door slowly opened. They peered into the small dimly lit dungeon room; on the far side was the shape of a man curled up on the ground and clothed in rags. He lifted his head slightly and looked at them.
‘Who are you?’ he asked in a low and deep voice as he slowly got to his feet. The man was perhaps fifty years old with strong features. He had long brown hair that was streaked with silver, a beard that he had tied up neatly, and strong dark eyes. He looked proud and dignified, even though he was clothed in rags.
‘Your Highness, we are here to rescue you,’ said Stella, stepping into the cell. He walked over to them, his eyes wide with bewilderment. ‘My name is Stella and these are my friends: Red, Eben, and Cassiel.’
‘You are Ortarians. How did you know I was here?’ asked King Ignis.
Cassiel interrupted before Stella could answer. ‘Your Highness, there will be plenty of time to explain everything later. Unfortunately our attempt to rescue you was discovered by the Zyranians. The Zyranian Order is waiting for us outside the prison. We don’t know how we can possibly escape.’ The King nodded as he stepped out of his cell into the passageway. He looked up and down the corridor and scratched his beard as he pondered an idea.
‘You have the key?’ asked King Ignis.
‘Yes,’ replied Stella.
‘In my time here I have become acquainted with the man in the cell next to mine. We have talked with each other through the walls for years, and we have become quite good friends. May I have the key so I can free him?’
Stella handed over the key. King Ignis stepped toward the door to the right of his own cell.
‘No!’ shouted Cassiel, leaping forward to stand in the way.
‘What are you doing?’ asked the King, surprised by Cassiel’s move to block him.
‘You can’t free Azagord,’ said Cassiel firmly.
‘Who is Azagord?’ asked Eben.
‘He’s a powerful and evil sorcerer,’ replied Cassiel. ‘He’s the Northern Sorcerer who came south from Kaznor nearly twenty years ago and attacked Zyran. He’s a merciless tyrant who possesses great power. Only this prison can contain him; he should never be released.’
‘Cassiel, no one is beyond redemption, not even Azagord,’ said King Ignis. ‘Furthermore, he may be our only hope of escape.’
‘I can’t allow this,’ said Cassiel defiantly.
‘Azagord was once my personal enemy,’ said King Ignis. ‘I worked with the Zyranians against him and fought his army in Ortaria before he attacked Zyran. He has been imprisoned here since those days, and he is not the same man he was when he entered this place.’
‘But, Your Highness…’
‘Step aside,’ commanded the King.
Cassiel reluctantly moved away from the door. King Ignis stepped forward and touched the key to the iron surface. The door opened and revealed a very skinny older man with thin dark hair, deep hollow cheeks, and sunken dark eyes. He was short and clothed in rags with a dishevelled beard.
‘Azagord,’ said King Ignis warmly.
‘My King,’ said Azagord in a deep foreign accent. The sorcerer stepped out of the cell and embraced his friend.
The others stepped back at the sight of him. Azagord glanced over at them with sunken eyes which were like pools of darkness. His eyes instantly fixed on Eben and the sword he was carrying. He stepped away from the King toward Eben and stared at him more intensely. Eben sensed danger as Azagord slowly approached.
‘Is everything all right, Azagord?’ asked King Ignis. Azagord didn’t answer and kept his eyes fixed on Eben.
‘It seems strange that the Sword of Light should fall into my hands after so long in exile,’ answered Azagord in a rasping voice.
The King looked from Azagord to Eben. Azagord moved forward with lightning speed. Cassiel tried to step in the way, but a blast of glowing green energy sent him sliding along the floor and pinned him to the stony surface. Eben raised his sword, but before he could react the sorcerer grabbed him by the throat. He felt a shock of energy pass through his body, paralysing his arms and legs. Azagord lifted him off the ground with incredible strength.
Red tried to swing his sword at the sorcerer, but his blade struck an invisible barrier. Red then found that he was unabl
e to move; his feet were completely frozen in place. Azagord then flicked his wrist and sent Red flying backward.
The King stepped toward Azagord. ‘Azagord, stop!’ he commanded. The sorcerer looked at King Ignis for a moment.
‘I can’t, my King. This is my duty, my reason, and my purpose. I was sent to recover the sword and to kill the one who carried it. The Master needs the Sword of Light. The Master will cast it through the Cosmic Gate,’ hissed Azagord.
King Ignis placed his hand on Azagord’s shoulder. ‘Please, Azagord. Remember our pledge. You do not have to be a slave to the darkness. You can choose the path toward the light.’
Azagord looked over his shoulder at the King again. His body was trembling. He looked down and away from Eben and tears started to issue forth. ‘I am sorry. I’m so sorry for what I am,’ he said shakily. A moment later he released Eben. Azagord then fell to his knees and grasped his head in his hands, hiding his face from them.
Eben shrank back from the sorcerer and watched on as Azagord began weeping bitterly. Cassiel was also released. Stella and Red helped Eben up. Eben felt his blood returning to his limbs.
‘The Zyranian Order waits outside the prison. Can you help us escape?’ asked King Ignis.
Azagord glanced up at King Ignis with tortured and sorrowful eyes. ‘I once fought the entire Zyranian Order and failed. I can save you, but only with my life.’ The sorcerer slowly stood up and turned to look at Eben. ‘I am sorry for hurting you, forgive me. I will pay my debt to you and your noble ancestors.’ Azagord resolutely took the key from the hands of King Ignis and started walking toward the stairs.
They followed Azagord up the stairs and across the entrance chamber. The sorcerer touched the key to the iron door. Slowly the door opened revealing the area outside which was crowded with Zyranian wizards. The wizards watched as Azagord stepped out.
‘Greetings,’ said Azagord. There were several gasps and cries when they saw him.
‘Azagord is free!’ cried a Zyranian.
Instantly the area lit up as the wizards all raised their hands and unleashed a torrent of bright yellow energy, masses of sparks, fire, and flaming columns toward Azagord. Azagord howled and a blanket of bright green energy blasted forth, completely matching the incoming fire and creating an explosion just outside the door that shook the ground. He then raised his hands high above his head and a bright green beam of liquid light rushed up toward the clouds above. The energetic light created a twisting vortex in the sky. The Zyranians looked up at the swirling clouds. The energy whirled in a massive circular motion hundreds of feet in diameter and then suddenly started funnelling downward toward Azagord.
