The Jake Thomas Trilogy: Book 02 - Sword of Light

by Steven A. Tolle

  In the flashes of light from the battle, Nathen saw the small hole in the floor that acted as the privy for the cell. Desperate, his terror overtaking him, he scrambled to it. He clawed at the stones, trying to pull them up. With the mortar weakened with age, he was able pry a few loose, enlarging the hole.

  With a final cry of agony from Silvan as she fell, the battle behind him ended, the room plunging into darkness.

  “Where are you going, my little rabbit?” The demon chuckled behind him. Over the pounding of his heartbeat, Nathen heard it coming for him.

  Completely terrified, he dove forward, shoving himself into the privy hole headfirst. Gripping the stones, he pulled with all his strength. Suddenly, the whole thing gave way. He felt the agony of the demon’s fire as it struck his lower leg right before he fell, tumbling into the darkness in a rain of stone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Marcus.”

  Marcus turned from the furnace when he heard Norlan call over to him, wiping the sweat from his face. He was at the smithy, wearing the same leather aprons and metal footgear as Norlan’s two apprentices. Jonas had suggested that he go to Norlan’s for the evening meal, so he could be around friends while they figured out what to do about Keria. After the meal, when Marcus and Norlan were talking outside, Norlan had suggested that he should come by the smithy and do some physical work to clear his mind. When he awoke this morning, he decided to take Norlan up on his offer.

  Marcus had been hauling loads of wood, coal and iron, as well as working the bellows at the furnace, constantly moving. He only stopped when Madalin and Cherise had brought the mid-day meal for him and the others. The exertions had the intended effect; he was able to think about what had happened more calmly and rationally.

  Norlan was standing over near his small office. Marcus was surprised to see Jonas standing there, but even more so to see Daen, his face looking even more serious than usual. Nodding to Almos, who was using the furnace, he left the smithy area and walked across the small yard to where they were standing.

  Jonas looked at him critically, nodding slightly. “I’m glad to see you active. Too much sitting around brooding is not healthy.”

  “I am grateful that Norlan made the offer.” Marcus replied. “I think that it has helped.”

  “Excellent.” Jonas said. He then lowered his voice. “However, we have something more important to discuss.” He turned to Norlan. “May we use your office?”

  “Of course, Jonas.” Norlan said and led them into the small room.

  Once they were inside and the door was closed behind them, Jonas spoke again. “Daen came to the Temple looking for you, Marcus. He has something important to tell us.” He gestured to Daen.

  “This morning, we began to get a series of orders, signed by the king.” Daen stated. “The orders began to reassign the Royal Guard. Some were ordered to augment the solders at the gates, but others were being sent to the remote border forts. At first, no one thought anything about it, since the numbers specified in each order were small, but when the orders continued, it became apparent that almost all of the Royal Guard was being sent from the palace. Helgrant went to see the king to protest, but came back with Sir Alleon, who was ordered to leave for the western forts immediately. Sir Alleon took twenty Guardsmen with him when he left.”

  “Helgrant was assured that these deployments were temporary and informed that your father’s men-at-arms would fill in at the palace while the Royal Guard was away.” Daen shook his head. “Helgrant was furious, but gave the orders. After Sir Alleon left, he pulled me aside and told me to go and inform you and Brother Jonas. I was ordered to stay with you and not return to the palace, so at least one Royal Guard would be left in the city.”

  Daen looked over at Jonas, who nodded. “Also, Nathen did not return from the dungeons last night. He hates the place, so he is usually back in the barracks as soon as his shift ends, but I have not seen him since he left yesterday afternoon.”

  “Sister Silvan went with Nathen to attend to a sick prisoner, or so we were told.” Jonas interjected. “She did not return to the Temple. When I went to the dungeons this afternoon, looking for her, I was told that the logs showed that she had left around half an hour after she had arrived with Nathen. They told me that I could come inside and look myself, but I declined.” He paused. “There was something about it that disturbed me. Just so you know, all of the men at the dungeons were your father’s men.”

  “What do you mean by that, Jonas?” Marcus asked, but felt a sudden hollowness inside. “I am angry with him and he is always in the middle of the court politics, but my father is not an enemy of the realm.”

  “I appreciate your loyalty, Marcus.” Jonas said gently. “But something is very wrong here. Why would the king send the Royal Guard away, only to replace them with your father’s men? Also, when I went to the palace to discuss what happen to Silvan, I was turned away at the palace gates. The guards, your father’s men, said it was orders. I am the Chief Cleric of Sanduas; what reason would there be to keep me out? The only thing I can think of is to keep me away from the king. You saw how he was two nights ago. Combine that with what Daen has just told us, we cannot deny that there is an effort to surround the king with your father’s men. Who but your father would have the ability to so order his men?”

  “I cannot believe that my father would move against the king.” Marcus stated, shaking his head. “They have been friends for a long time. There has to be another explanation.”

  “If there is, we need to find out what it is.” Jonas said. He looked over at Norlan. “If you do not wish to be involved any further, Norlan, I understand. There may be great risk in investigating what has happened.”

  “If you are that concerned, Jonas, then so am I.” Norlan said, squaring his shoulders. “It is unlikely that if something bad happens it would pass my family by. I’m not sure what help I can be, but I am with you.”

  “Thank you, Norlan.” Jonas said. He looked at each of them in turn. “We need to be cautious. Daen and I will return to the Temple. Marcus, you and Norlan should continue as if nothing has happened. Finish your work, and then head home. Once it starts to get dark, come to the Temple. We have much to discuss.”

  …

  Keria pulled on her dressing robe as the seamstresses left her room, taking the fabric samples with them, deep in discussion over the details of her wedding gown. She stepped off the small pedestal near the mirror and began pacing around her bedroom.

  She hated that her father was forcing her to marry that odious man. She had spoken to her father at length, alternatively pleading and demanding, trying to reach him and have him call the wedding off. She had begged him to allow her to marry Marcus, arguing that it would still allow the joining with Lord Marcelas’ family, but with someone that she loved. Her father rejected it out of hand, finally ordering her to her room and forbidding her to discuss it any further.

  To make matters worse, when she had tried to leave the palace grounds this morning, she was turned back. The Royal Guard on duty told her that her father had ordered her confined in the palace until after the wedding. That had sent her into a rage. She stormed into her father’s chambers, demanding to know why she was a prisoner. He told her that it was for her own good, to prevent her from doing something rash. That was too much for her. She lost any sense of propriety, yelling and cursing at him, threating to cut him out of her life forever. He had responded in kind, his face growing red, bellowing at her, telling her to stay in her quarters or he would have her put in chains.

  Despite her frustration and anger, she was worried for her father. He did not seem himself. When she first spoke with him after the announcement, he was pale and sweating, his hands shaking slightly as he drank his wine. He had refused to allow her to send for Jonas, saying he was fine. He did not look any better today.

  Lost in her thoughts, she did not realize that her door had opened until she saw Rolas striding into her room, a tankard in his hand.
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br />   “How dare you?!” She hissed at him, pulling her robe tight. “You cannot just come into my chambers uninvited. Leave or I will have you taken away in irons.”

  “Is that anyway to treat your future husband?” Rolas, eyes slightly bloodshot, asked with a smile on his lips, unconcerned.

  ““You will leave now or I will inform my father about your boorish behavior.” She said, trying to recover her calm. He stood there watching her, and then took a slow and deliberate drink from his tankard.

  “You will regret disobeying me.” She said flatly, drawing herself up. She raised her voice. “Guards!!”

  Despite her cry, Rolas simply stood there with that evil grin on his face. After a few moments, when the guards did not show up, he laughed. “It appears that there is no one coming to your rescue.”

  He came over to her, reaching out to touch her face. She jerked her head back, but he reached out and grabbed her neck. He squeezed tightly and pulled her close. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “You belong to me now.” He snarled quietly, smile gone, eyes flat with anger. “You had better learn to guard your tongue. You will soon take an oath to obey me and I will hold you to that oath. Once we are married, your only duty will be to produce an heir.” His smile came back, cruel and cold, though humor did not touch his eyes “I prefer my women a little rougher around the edges, but we are stuck with each other. You had better make peace with that.”

  Before Keria could do anything, a woman’s voice came from the doorway. “Rolas, release her.”

  Grimacing, he shoved Keria back, letting go of her throat. She stumbled backwards, but was able to catch her balance. As she lightly rubbed were he had grabbed her, she looked over to see Lady Arelia and Captain Justian standing in the doorway.

  “Justian, escort Rolas back to our quarters.” She said, looking coldly at her son. “If he were to happen to stumble into the wall several times along the way, I would hope that would convince him to give up drinking.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Rolas turned and left, with Justian right behind him. Lady Arelia came into the room and sat down in one of the chairs set near the wall. She motioned Keria to join her. After a moment’s hesitation, Keria came over and sat down.

  “If you wish to find some happiness in marriage, my dear, you will need to learn to identify and manage Rolas’ moods.” Arelia stated. “Try not to antagonize him.”

  “I do not plan to marry him.” Keria said sharply. “After my father learns of this, your son will be lucky to keep his head.”

  “That is exactly the wrong thing to do, Highness.” Arelia stated firmly. “The king and my husband have agreed on this union. You would not wish to see a schism develop between them, do you? That could lead to unfortunate consequences.”

  “I will be Queen someday, so I will not tolerate such a man to sit beside me.” Keria retorted. She took a calming breath, softening her voice. “Lady Arelia, if you truly want to see our families united, convince your husband to agree to a marriage with Marcus. He and I are a much better match. We love each other.”

  “While I wish my son the best, that will not happen. Rolas is the first-born and Marcelas’ heir.” Arelia said, studying Keria. “If you wish to be a good queen, you must put the best interests of the realm before your own interests. Starting a conflict with the richest noble house would not be in anyone’s best interest.”

  “I would rather die than marry such a man.” Keria stated.

  “I have heard many women say that.” Arelia said, rising. She looked down at Keria, eyes now cold. “Noblewomen such as ourselves must find a way to endure what fate deals us. Not everyone gets to have the man of her dreams. You should think on that, Princess, as well as how to make peace with Rolas. You will be marrying him, whether you like it or not.” With that, she made to leave.

  At the door, she turned back. “I should warn you. Your father has replaced the Royal Guard in the palace with my husband’s men. Do not try anything foolish, child. There will be no one to help you if you do.”

  Keria stared in disbelief as the door shut behind Arelia, suddenly shuddering. The sound of the doors closing reminded her of the cell in Creatos’ fortress. She knew that she was a captive again.

  …

  As Marcus walked next to Norlan, heading into the Temple, passing the apprentice clerics igniting the torches in the garden to provide light against the darkening sky, the calming benefit of working at the smithy had faded. His mind was turning, desperately trying to figure out what was happening and why.

  He was still uncertain what to believe. He just could not fathom what would cause his father to plot or act against the king. That would be so out of character for him. But, with the strange movement of his father’s men into positions that rightfully belonged to the Royal Guard, he could no longer be completely sure.

  They made their way to the sanctuary, finding Jonas and Daen already there, sitting in two of the four chairs in the room. There was a pitcher of wine and four glasses, sitting on a small table near the chairs. Marcus went over and poured the wine into the glasses, handing one to each man, then sat down in the remaining chair.

  “I am still not convinced that my father is behind what is going on.” Marcus said. “I agree that something odd is happening, but the orders that are being carried out are from the king. Could his apparent illness be affecting his judgment?”

  “Maybe.” Jonas said, stroking his beard. “There are some illnesses that impair judgment or cause the person to be open to suggestion. But, until I can examine him, we cannot know for sure. I tried to send another cleric to the palace this afternoon, thinking that it might just be me that is barred, but she was turned away as well.”

  “Without wanting to cause Marcus any offence, but perhaps the king and his father have been compromised in some way, maybe something happened that leaves them open to coercion by others?” Norlan suggested. “They do seem to be working together.”

  “No offence is taken, Norlan.” Marcus said. “I doubt it, though. I have never heard even a whisper of my father doing anything that would be considered dishonorable.”

  “Can we somehow get the army involved?” Daen asked. “I think that if the soldiers began to question what was happening, we would get some answers. Lord Marcelas does not have enough men to stand against them.”

  “I agree that would get their attention, Daen, but how would we make that happen?” Marcus responded. “If it were found out that we were trying to turn the army, then the king would simply order them to arrest us. I can’t see them turning against the king on only our word.” He looked at Jonas. “The only way it could work is if the clerics helped convince them.”

  Jonas shook his head. “I can’t tell the clerics to do that on only a vague suspicion. It would violate the Agreement, which in turn would mean that the king was no longer bound by it. That would make the Temple vulnerable. I will not risk it unless and until I know more.”

  “What can we do then?” Norlan asked.

  “I think that we need to determine what has befallen Silvan and Nathen.” Jonas said. “If we can solve that, it may give us better insight on the true purpose behind all that has happened.”

  “Where would we start?” Marcus asked. “We cannot get into the palace and we would draw attention if we tried to go into the dungeons.”

  “Maybe I can get in.” Daen stated. “I believe that I can get Commander Helgrant to write an order that I need to retrieve some items from the barracks. He is currently at the South Gate.”

  “I applaud your courage, Daen, but we must be cautious.” Jonas said. “If the king and Marcus’ father are collaborating, as Norlan suggested, then it is possible that Helgrant has been compromised. I believe that we must do this ourselves.”

  “Instead of that, why not have Daen find some of the Guardsmen who worked in the dungeons and engage them in conversation?” Marcus suggested. “He would not say anything specific, but that may be a useful way to gather i
nformation without revealing our true intent.”

  “I can agree to that.” Jonas said. He looked at Daen. “Do you think you can be circumspect in your questions as to not draw attention?”

  “I can, Brother Jonas.” Daen said confidently. “I can check with the remaining Guardsmen still in the city. If I cannot find someone there, I can always ride out to the nearby army garrisons.”

  “If we are agreed, then I suggest we start there.” Jonas said. The others nodded. “We should meet again in two days. Hopefully, Daen will have some information to help us plan what to do next.”

  Marcus got up and walked out with Daen, while Norlan stayed to speak with Jonas. They went around to the rear of the Temple grounds where the bushes and trees were thick, so Daen would be less likely to be seen leaving.

  “Don’t take any risks, Daen.” Marcus said quietly. “If you think that someone is growing suspicious, leave immediately and return here.”

  “I do have some common sense, Marcus.” Daen snorted, a sudden grin on his face. “You nobles sometimes seem to think only you have a brain.”

  Marcus smiled at that. “I think Nathen has been a bad influence on you.” His smile faded as he held out his hand. “Luck be with you.”

  “You too, Marcus.” Daen said, gripping Marcus’ hand. “I’ll see you in two days.” With a final nod, he slipped into the brush and disappeared.

  Marcus slowly made his way back towards the Temple. He stopped near a low wall, leaning against it and looking up at the sky. High clouds obscured most of the stars, making the night seem darker.

  He started thinking about Keria. His body tensed and he felt his anger re-awaken as he considered the fact that she was supposed to marry Rolas in only eight days. While he had not told Jonas or Norlan, he had decided that if they did not find any answers before then, he would find a way into the palace and confront his brother. If he must, he would fight him for Keria.

  He was battling his brother in his mind’s eye when a sudden rank odor assaulted his nostrils and he heard a rustling coming from behind. He spun, drawing his sword, and confronted a shape staggering away from the bushes.