by Brad Clark
“Tarcious is insane. He has a crazy obsession with his arena. He loves death and loves to see his gladiators kill one another.”
Marik did his best to hide his anger and sorrow. The sight of Conner being killed was something that he would never be able to get out of his mind. For a while, he had been able to suppress it, but Berrien just brought all those images flooding right back.
Berrien continued, “I knew some of the high government officials and none of them had anything good to say about him. With Emperor Hargon ill, Tarcious ran the empire, but he was never bold enough or powerful enough to be a threat to the throne. There were too many people loyal to Emperor Hargon. But with him gone, they would have to support Tarcious if Tarcious has control of the army.”
“So Tarcious takes over as emperor and the first thing he does is send his army to Karmon? Why? What are you not telling me?”
“Look, I am a Taran and loyal to the empire, but I am not going to fall on my sword for something that I don’t know about. I was sent here solely to reestablish a relationship with Karmon. When I left, Hargon was emperor. Now, you tell me that he is dead and Tarcious is emperor. And that the Taran army is at your door…”
“We think that they are there,” Lord Martin interjected. “This could all be a simple misunderstanding. We do not know for sure who, or even if there is an army out there.”
“They are there,” Marik said sharply. He turned to Berrien and said, “I do not know if you are telling the truth or not, but I can’t trust you.”
Marik turned to his guards and ordered, “Take him to a room in the lower levels, away from anyone else. Lock the door and post a guard. Post two guards. No one but me will be allowed to see him.”
“Marik!” Lord Martin exclaimed. “You cannot imprison the Taran diplomats!”
“I can and I will. We must tell the queen.”
“No! Of course not! This is her special night and I will not let you spoil it!”
Marik wanted to punch Lord Martin. At one time, he had really liked him, but over the past few months, he had turned into a weak fool. Or maybe the weakness had always been there and it was just now showing through. The kingdom needed a strong leader, and he was so glad that this man was not it. “Every minute that goes by, we lose our chance to gain an advantage on the army in the forest. We must call the men of the kingdom and ready them to defend our city. Our walls are strong and our will is even stronger. I will get the queen myself. And if you try and stop me, then I will put you in the same room as this Taran. Now, out of my way!”
***
Conner marveled at the stairs, which were roughly hewn directly from the bedrock underneath the castle. Some of the steps were so worn that they were barely a step. A trickle of water came from the wall and drizzled down some of them, making each step an adventure. Conner walked slowly to keep from slipping, but Glaerion gracefully descended, oblivious to the danger.
With his head down watching his steps, Conner did not see the elf standing at the bottom of the stairs and nearly ran him over. He looked up and began to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. The stairwell opened up to a square chamber that had two things of note. One was a small stream that cut through the middle from one wall to the opposite wall. The second was a man standing just on the other side of the stream, his back to them.
Glaerion already had his dagger out and he crouched into a fighting stance. Conner was even more astonished when the man turned.
“Arpwin?”
Arpwin turned to face them. “Hello Conner. I had heard from Sir Marik that you were dead. I am glad that he was wrong.”
“What are you doing here?” Conner asked.
“I should be asking you the same. And you brought a friend. How did you find this place?”
“We have come for the Ark,” Glaerion said, still holding his dagger in a threatening manner.
Arpwin took a moment to look over Glaerion. “Are you an elf? So the myths of the elven-kind are true, then.”
“We need the Ark of Life,” Glaerion said. “I can feel it is here, but I do not see it. There is also strong magic in here, but it is not from you.”
“I cannot let you have it,” Arpwin said with a slow shake of his head. “It is safe here. Is that why you came, Conner? To take the Ark?”
“It is not safe here,” Conner said. “The Deceiver wants it and he is sending the Taran army here to take it. We need to take it farther away.”
Arpwin closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh. “My time has come to an end, then. I have been guardian of the Ark of Life for so many years. Too many, I would say.” A smile crept across his face. “It really is good to see you alive, Conner. The queen was so distraught at your death. Does she know you are alive?”
“She still thinks I’m dead. Maybe that’s for the best, though.”
“Oh?”
“If I’m going to take the Ark into hiding, it would be best that she does not know where I am. And if she thinks I’m dead, then that is so much the better. For her safety.”
Arpwin nodded, suspecting that there was much more to his story. But he had been serving kings for many, many years and he was accustomed to not knowing the full story of events around him. He was a patient man, and in time, he knew all would be revealed. He said, “Of course. Where will you take the Ark?”
“The elves will take it and protect it,” Glaerion said. Finally sensing that Arpwin was no threat, he sheathed his dagger. “We should have been the guardians in the first place. We are the stronger race and it would not be threatened if we had it from the beginning.”
Arpwin shrugged and replied, “The Creator always has his reasons.”
Conner looked around the perfectly square chamber. All the walls were perfectly smooth with no obvious doors or places where the ark could be hidden. “Where is it?”
Glaerion pointed to the wall directly across from them. “It is there.”
“You can see through the wall?” Arpwin asked.
“I can feel magic,” the elf replied. “It is one of our senses. It is a perpetual spell, a very powerful spell that hides the tunnel that leads to the ark. I cannot see through it, but I know that it is there.”
Glaerion hopped across the swiftly flowing water and marched right up to and through the wall. As soon as he stepped through, the wall sparkled and then disappeared. When he caught sight of the Ark in its place in the wall, he slowed his pace. The small wooden box was so finely crafted that he could barely contain his excitement as he reached out to touch it. He could feel its power as he gently took it into his hands. With the Ark finally in his grasp, he turned to face the other two, a smile on his face.
It was the first time that Conner had ever seen him truly smile. “That’s it then? That is the Ark of Life?”
“No,” Arpwin said. “That is just a wooden box.”
Glaerion raised an eyebrow. “I can feel the power of it, though. It is flowing through the box. This is surely the Ark of Life.”
“Open it,” Conner suggested. “Let’s look at it.”
Glaerion touched the box and carefully pulled back the top, exposing the many faceted black oval stone.
“It’s a stone?” Glaerion asked, looking up at Arpwin.
“A perfect stone,” Aprwin replied. “One of a kind. Cut from the matter that makes up the universe.”
Glaerion reached for it, feeling an incredible amount of power emanating from it. It was a feeling that he had never felt before. He had always sensed magic and could feel it around him. But the power that was coming from the stone flashed out in waves, as if it were an ocean that was sending wave after wave of water at him. His fingers touched the stone and then his hand wrapped around it.
Pain exploded through his body. Every inch of his body burned with an unbearable searing sensation. He wanted to keep holding the Ark, to feel its full power, but the pain was so much more than he could ever have imagined. His desire to feel the full power of the stone overcame hi
s instincts to drop the stone. His fingers clenched the stone turning his knuckles white from the force that he used to squeeze it. Finally, it overcame him and he felt his knees give out. Blackness overcame him before he crumpled to the ground.
Conner had jumped forward the moment Glaerion started screaming. A red glow was coming from the stone between the elf’s fingers, as if it were one fire. Glaerion’s hand clenched it tightly, even as he lay prone on the ground. Risking the pain that had overcame the elf, Conner pulled Glaerion’s fingers off the stone, picked it up and tossed it across the room.
He looked at his fingers. He had felt nothing, even though he had touched the black stone. It had felt cool to the touch, but other than that it had felt like any other stone.
“What was that?” Conner asked, still looking at this fingers, wondering why he did not feel what the elf felt.
“I don’t know. I’ve touched it before and it healed me and made me feel younger and healthier.” Arpwin walked over to the black stone and picked it up. Nothing outward happened to him, either. But he could feel the old aches and pains drain away. Reluctantly, he set it back in its box and closed the top. He held it out to Conner. “I think this was meant for you, not him.”
Glaerion let out a groan and tried to sit up.
“Maybe that’s why the elves weren’t given it,” Conner said. “We must go. And quickly before Tarcious comes with his army.”
“Tarcious?” Arpwin asked. “Prince Tarcious of Taran is here with an army?”
“Emperor Tarcious, now,” Conner said. “And he is coming with his army to take the Ark of Life. I need to get it out of the city and as far away from here as possible.”
“The elves must have it,” Glaerion said with a weak voice. He had sat up and rubbed his fingers. He looked them over, expecting them to be grotesquely disfigured from the heat that had come from the stone. But there were no marks or signs that he had been burned.
“It almost killed you,” Conner said.
“We do not have to touch it to protect it. Our homeland is across the sea. He would not be able to follow us with a large enough army. We will be fine, but we have to get to my boat and get sailing.”
Conner offered a hand to Glaerion to help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”
The elf took Conner’s hand gratefully, which partially surprised Conner. “I will be, soon enough. It took a lot out of me, to protect myself. It almost killed me.”
“Why?” Conner asked. “Why can’t you touch it, but Arpwin and I can?”
“You touched it? What did it feel like?”
Conner shrugged his shoulders. “It was cold. It felt like any old rock.”
“I can feel its power and it is very strong. If Tarcious were to get ahold of it, he surely could conquer the world. We have wasted enough time in this god-forsaken castle. Which way is out?”
“The masquerade ball is in full swing. Maybe you can sneak out disguised as one of the guests?” Aprwin suggested.
“No,” Conner said. “I know another way. The royal apartments are close by and we can get out through them.”
“Where you escaped once without a trace?” Arpwin asked with a wry smile.
“Yes.”
“It would do the queen well to see you one last time. You may say that she should be left in the dark for her own protection, but I assure you, she is very fond of you. If she were to find out that you were here…”
“We have no time. We must get out of here as soon as possible.”
“It would only take a moment,” Arpwin argued. “It would at least ease her pain to know that you are not dead.”
“No!” Conner said sharply. “She is not to know I was here or that I am even alive. Our time has come and gone. I have another path.”
“Very well,” Arpwin said, feeling sadness for Conner. He knew the pain of sacrificing love for duty and did not wish it upon anyone. “Take care, Conner.”
Conner gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and quick nod of the head. He could see the young man had tears in his eyes and felt for him and his sorrow. Then as quickly as they had come, Conner and the elf turned and started up the stairs.
Arpwin waited while they climbed the stairs, feeling an odd sense of relief. For so many years he had carried the burden of being the Ark’s guardian. Although no one ever came to try and take the Ark before this moment, he had always been prepared to fight to protect it. He had no fighting skills and certainly no magic abilities, so his ability to defend the Ark was truly limited. In reality, he had simply been its caretaker. And that was okay with him as it had given him purpose to a life that was much longer than that of a normal man. He thought he would feel a sense of loss of purpose knowing that he was no longer to be the guardian, but he did not feel that way. He felt a completion to his life and felt a peace with knowing that soon he would be co-existing with the Creator in the afterlife.
If the Taran army was truly on the march towards the city, the queen would need help and support from people that could give her good advice and comfort. There would be many people trying to give her counsel and direction and surely she would be overwhelmed. His last act of this life would be to help her get through the next day. But after that, his time would be up.
That last touch of the Ark gave him the renewed strength to climb the stairs, but it would not be long before the power of the Ark would drain from his muscles and he would become weak and useless. He would have to make the most of the next hours of his life to wrap the bow on what he hoped was a life worthy of serving the Creator.
Chapter Seventeen
Marik strode across the Great Hall fully armed, his longsword swinging at this side and a dagger tucked in his belt. He was not yet in his battle armor, but that would come soon. He wore a thick leather vest, the one that he wore out in the forests. It was heavily stained and came with a well-worn stench. His trousers matched in both appearance and smell, but he didn’t care. The clothes had a purpose, and it wasn’t for show.
He needed to be really sure before he sounded the alarm. The last thing that he wanted to do was to induce panic in the citizens of the city, but he also needed to be sure that he didn’t leave them unprotected. With the disbandment of the Karmon Knights, a void was left which had not been filled. There was no formal, organized ability to defend the city other than the city guard, which were currently being led by the former Royal Guard leader, Percy. He did a fine job of ensuring law and order within the city, but he was not a military leader. The one person that should be here, leading the defense of the city, Sir Brace Hawkden, had met his demise in Lord Neffenmark’s castle. There were other competent military minds still around, but many of them had left the service of the kingdom when the queen had made her decree to disband the knights. His first step had been to pull the pages away from the masquerade ball and use them to find those men. If it had been summer, they would be scattered about the kingdom, but since it was winter, many of them were still around the city. It would just be a matter of finding them in time. Messengers had also left for Tyre. The men and boys that could take up the sword in Tyre were but a tenth of what was available in South Karmon, but they would help. If they could arrive in time.
The echoes of his long strides were overshadowed by the music, laughter, and boisterous chatter from the queen’s guests. But his serious demeanor in the middle of a joyous event caught the attention of the revelers and heads turned to watch him. Marik’s path was aimed directly at the queen, who was in the middle of another dance.
“Marik,” the queen said as he approached, ending her dance gracefully. As soon as she stopped dancing, everyone else did as well. The musicians stopped playing their instruments mid-note. A foreboding silence fell across the festivities.
“Your Majesty,” Marik said. He did not bow or even dip his head in greeting. It did not occur to him at this moment that he was breaking protocol or that he might be insulting the queen. His duty, as it has always been, was to the kingdom. And right now, he believed t
he kingdom was in dire danger. “An army approaches from the north. We must call our army together immediately to defend our kingdom.”
His words hung in the air for a long time before anyone moved. The queen stood before him, a blank look on her face as if she had not heard the words. A larger figured moved in from behind her and pulled off his mask. Everyone already knew who he was, as his size and flowing curly head of hair was easily recognizable. Lord Kirwal was one of the most respected men in the kingdom, having served as governor of Tyre for many years. He had been one of the first lords of the kingdom to declare his allegiance to the queen and spoke with much authority.
His booming voice filled the stunned room. “Marik, what are you saying?”
“There is an army in the forest to the north. I have seen the light of their torches as they work through the night. I can only guess that they are building engines of war, and their assault will come quickly. We must prepare the walls for attack.”
In seconds, they were surrounded by men tossing out questions and comments so quickly he could not listen or respond to them all. The ladies of the room could only stand in hushed fear, holding their hands over their mouths, wondering how quickly they could escape out of the city.
Another voice joined the conversation. King Toknon pulled off his mask and said, “A Taran army? That is impossible! I just came from Thell and there was no army out there.”
Marik gave the king of Thell a long look. Although an army could surely have marched around the borders of Thell without notice, he knew that Thellian soldiers were constantly patrolling the mountains. He had been personally assured by King Toknon and his father that there would be peace between their kingdoms, but he could not stop a nagging feeling of distrust that had been instilled in him for his entire life.
Toknon could sense suspicion from the look Marik’s gave him. Although he knew the army was out there, he did his best to show surprise in his tone and words. “Marik, I do not know anything of this. If it is true, what can I do to help?”
