Chapter 7
The next morning a messenger went around the palace to inform the adventurers that there presence was required in the great hall. Upon their arrival, they found the hall was almost empty. There were no guards and no members of the royal court. The only people present were King Henried and Paddy Turner standing at his side.
The King spoke in a formal tone, “Prince Cohen, John Turner, Anree the Healer, Rhyll the Barbarian and Conrad the Cowardly, you have been brought here today to perform a task of the utmost importance. To explain, I present to you Paddy Turner.”
Paddy stood up and began pacing up and down the line of adventurers. He checked each one over with an eagle eye.
“A little over a week ago my wife gave birth to my daughter. That same night, Wraiths from the Cursed Isle slaughtered my wife and kidnapped my daughter. We believe that there is something special about my baby, Isabelle, and that is why she was taken. We also believe that she was taken back to the Cursed Isle though we do not know for what purpose. We would like you to infiltrate the island, locate Isabelle and return her back to me. It may be too late, we don’t know and nor do I wish to contemplate it. It is also important that we find out what the plan for my daughter is.” Paddy stopped there. The emotion of the whole ordeal suddenly swept over him, making it hard for him to speak. The King continued:
“If you manage to rescue Isabelle, there is a good chance that another attempt to snatch her back will be made. If the child is needed for some purpose we can assume that the denizens of the Cursed Isle will not let her go without resistance. The task we ask of you is great and it comes with considerable risk. As I said in my message to you all, name your price.”
The room was silent. Each individual contemplating what they wanted. It was John Turner who broke the silence.
“I require no reward. Isabelle is my sister, my blood and I accept this mission out of love. All I would ask is that if I happen to be too late, if my sister is dead; that you lend me a number of your finest warriors so that I can exact my revenge on those that did this.” The King nodded his approval.
Cohen spoke, “I too demand nothing in payment. Since meeting Paddy and John, I have done nothing but embarrass myself and the royal court with my actions. I shall accept this quest as part of my training.”
The King smiled from ear to ear upon hearing his son’s words. Pride oozed out of every pour on his body.
“Perhaps we shall make a leader out of you yet, boy.” He said. The King then turned to Rhyll and motioned him to speak.
“I have little need for money or wealth. I live and die by my ability to fight. All I require is a fine set of weapons. Just point me in the direction of your finest blacksmith before we leave.”
“Weapons you shall have my barbarian friend. We have the finest Smithy and the largest armoury right here in the city. You shall be free to choose whatever weapons and armour you desire.” The King replied.
Anree spoke next, “My order is expanding and the temple we have will soon be full to capacity. I would ask for nothing more than free labour to help us build an extension to the temple.”
The King smiled, “My lady, such a simple request can easily be granted. However, I have a counter offer for you. If you are successful I shall send the finest architects in all of Thorntonvale to help you sculpture a building worthy of your order. How does that sound?”
Anree tried to speak but nothing but a choking sound came out of her mouth. She looked to the floor for a moment to regain her composure. Finally she spoke, “My lord is most generous. My order and I will be most grateful.”
Finally it was Conrad’s turn to speak, “All I require is this; one hundred thousand pieces of gold, a stately mansion in the centre of Thorvale complete with full furnishings, a number of fine guards to keep it safe, twenty or so beautiful women to fulfil my needs and an extensive wine cellar.”
Everyone was looking at Conrad with amazement.
“Twenty women?” Rhyll asked with raised eyebrows.
“I have needs” Conrad replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I have needs too but I only have one…”
“Ahem,” the King interrupted, “Is that all, Conrad?” He asked, changing the subject quickly.
“Yes I think that should do it.” Conrad replied.
“Settled, I shall grant you all what you requested. You will leave on the morrow. May I remind you that speed if of the essence! I have a bad feeling about this and I would like to sleep easy before this year is through. Winter is fast approaching so watch your step.”
Paddy joined the conversation.
“On a personal note, I have to thank you all. I will be forever in your debt.”
With that, the adventurers departed.
That evening, preparations were made for the journey. The King personally escorted the party to the finest blacksmith in Thorvale. Here the sharpest blades, the toughest armour and the most durable shields could be found. The workshop was one huge room. The many different wares were displayed on the wall. As Rhyll entered the shop his jaw hit the ground. As Conrad walked past the large barbarian, he reached up and pushed his mouth closed.
“You will be catching flies, big fella.” He said cheekily.
“I think I have died and gone to heaven.” Rhyll said with a dreamy amazement to his voice.
They all wandered around the room looking at the different wares that suited their individual styles. Conrad was looking at the range of weightless armour that was available. The Smithy walked across to him.
“If you do not wish to be seen or heard, this is for you.” He said pointing at a black tunic. “It is made from material, woven so that no blade, no matter how sharp, can penetrate. Of course you would still feel the blow so we have sown into the lining a series of small metal plates. The metal is the finest and lightest we have. It will protect you well.”
Conrad inspected the armour closely. Using his knuckles, he began knocking on the metal plates. He looked at the blacksmith and enquired, “How do you ensure the metal plates do not make a sound?”
“The armour consists of the following,” The blacksmith began, “the outer layer is a tightly woven material that is nearly unbreakable. Next is a layer of densely packed wool to dampen the sound of the plates on the outer material. Behind the plates is a similar layer of wool that stops them from hitting the inside layer of material. It is quite simple really.”
“Sold” Conrad said bluntly, “put this on the King’s bill.”
Anree was busy inspecting the ranged weapons. She had sighted a beautifully crafted longbow. Its balance and tension were perfect. She cocked an arrow to see how it felt. The Smithy went into the opposite corner of the room and rotated a small target.
“Please have a go” he told Anree.
She pulled the arrow back, took aim and let fly. The naked eye would not have seen it leave the bow. It flew straight and true, hitting the target dead centre. She fell in love with it instantly.
“You could pierce the eye of an Orc from a mile away.” The Smithy boasted.
Both Cohen and John were kitting themselves out in lightweight armour and elegant swords. John added a shield and a back plate with a shield hook. Cohen preferred a crossbow and mount. The pair of them looked like glorious knights.
Rhyll had gone mad. He had donned some leather holster armour. This was light padded armour with many places to holster tools. Traditionally designed for workers who worked in dangerous places who would need to take all their tools with them, Rhyll had found a new use for it. Attached to his armour was a war hammer, a double edged battleaxe, a bastard sword, two scimitars and a number of throwing daggers. He walked into the centre of the room; his posture oozing confidence.
“Well, what do you think?” He demanded with a broad grin on his face.
“I’m sorry, Rhyll, but there is something missing.” Conrad teased. Rhyll’s smile visibly sagged. He had a look around the walls to see what he could possibly hav
e overlooked. Deep in the darkest corner of the room, a helmet was hanging from a rafter. It had cat eyes to see through and covered half of the head at the front yet dropped down and away at the back to protect the neck without limiting movement. Conrad walked over to get the helmet and returned to where Rhyll stood. In mock ceremonial style, Conrad placed the helmet on Rhyll’s head.
Conrad took a pace back, nodding like a donkey, “There, now you look the part”. He looked around the room at the other adventurers. They were nodding too.
“Now we are ready” Conrad said.
They all raised their weapons of choice and gave an almighty roar.
For two members of the party the night seemed to take an eternity to pass. For both John and Cohen, this would be their first adventure. Stories make adventures sound exciting and fun. The reality is often so different. For John, bad dreams were keeping him awake. Each time he closed his eyes he could see his sister in the arms of those Wraiths. Never in his life had he encountered a Wraith so his mind was creating a vision of a monster so hideous, fear filled his heart and soul. He would be unable to move when it looked at him. The Wraiths paraded the child around him whilst he stood there helplessly. They would then start tossing the child over his head, playing a twisted game of piggy in the middle. He could not jump. The only thing he could do was watch. Then the mouth of one of these monstrosities would open. It opened so wide, it could have fit a couple of large melons in. The teeth were razor sharp. Slowly, the Wraith would bring Isabelle closer and closer to his mouth. Its horrid slimy tongue would lick Isabelle’s perfect little face. The saliva would melt the skin away, like it was pure acid, showing only a bloodied skeleton. Then the Wraith would bite her head clean off before devouring the rest of the body in a savage act of cannibalism. Once it had finished with Isabelle, the attention of the Wraith would turn to him. Each of the Wraiths would close in on him, mouths wide open, razor sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. The Wraith in front of him had blood stained teeth and blood trickling down the side of his mouth; Isabelle’s blood. Then they would pounce.
As the blackness took hold of him, John would wake up. Sweat poured off him. His sheets were soaked, again. This dream repeated time and time again until morning came.
For Cohen, the dreams did not keep him awake. His own thoughts did that. He was trying to remember all the lessons he had learned this past week. He practiced the calming exercises in his head. He wanted to feel confident that they would work when it came to the time he needed to use them for real. He wasn’t confident however. For too long he had suffered this rage. It was now a part of him, an evil monster awaiting its chance to engulf its host. One week of training would not bury his tempestuous nature for long. He knew this but was determined to keep it quiet. This was his opportunity to grow. It was his opportunity to gain the respect of those who did not respect him. Servants, Soldiers, guards and even the King all felt that he was ill deserving of the title of Prince. This is what he imagined in his head. He would show them though. He was determined more than anything else to see the same expression his father had shown earlier that day, again. Cohen had never seen pride in his father’s eyes being directed at him. The feeling was amazing and he wanted more than anything to feel that way once more. Cohen then began to think about John. John had accepted him; the first person in his life to accept him for who he was. What must John be going through? He would do his best by John. He could deal with disappointing those that did not care for him but not John. He could not let down his only friend in his hour of need.
For many hours the Prince stewed. The thoughts rolled through his head and then repeated. He managed just a couple of hours sleep.
The next morning, Cohen and John made their way to the great hall together. They opened the doors and entered. Anree, Rhyll and Conrad were already tucking into a hearty breakfast. Each looked fresh and alert like they had just had the most relaxing night’s sleep of their lives. John and Cohen looked like ghosts in comparison.
“You two didn’t sleep so well then?” Conrad said. “First timer’s nerves methinks.”
“And a good morning to you too.” John said wearily. They all ate a hearty breakfast and then packed their food provisions. They would have enough to last them a couple of weeks. If they were any longer, they would have to hunt. After breakfast, as the others prepared, John went to see his father.
Paddy was standing on the balcony of his room. It did not overlook the city but looked south towards the coast. John stood next to his father and for a moment both men just looked out in the general direction they thought Isabelle may be.
Placing his hand gently on his father’s shoulder, John said, “It is time for me to leave”.
Paddy turned and looked deep into his son’s eyes. His voice was breaking as he spoke, “I am proud of you son. You have grown up to be a fine young man. I only hope that your brothers follow your example.” Tears were forming in Paddy’s eyes.
“You take care of yourself. I could not bare it if I lost you as well.”
John was now in tears. He had never seen such a display of emotion from his father. He spoke as calmly as he could in the circumstances, “You will not lose me, father. I will return and I will bring Isabelle with me.”
Paddy was about to reply but the words became stuck in his throat. He stepped forward and gathered his son in a big emotion-filled embrace that lasted fully a couple of minutes. Paddy knew full well that this may be the last time he would see his son. It would be a moment he would treasure for the rest of his life. As they released their embrace, no more words were spoken. They spent a moment looking at each other. Paddy smiled and patted John on the shoulder before John turned and walked away. Paddy watched him until he could see nothing more than the wood of the closed door that John exited through.
It was close to sunset when the adventurers gathered at the gates of the palace. The King and the members of the royal court waited there to send the adventurers on their way.
The King addressed the party, “I wish you all the best of luck. May the gods favour you in the days ahead?” The party bowed. With that they picked up their backpacks and departed. Horses had been provided to speed their journey. As Conrad marched towards his mount, he turned to speak to the King.
“Remember, twenty women, no less.”
The King smiled, shaking his head in disbelief.
The party mounted up, turned their steeds and galloped out of the city. It would take them half a day to reach the ferry.
*****
Resurrection (Book 1: The Chronicles of Chaos) Page 9
