“No, ma’am, I don’t mind at all,” Dawyn replied, as he made his way to the door of the basement and descended. At the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in a dimly-lit cool cellar where the alcohol for the inn was stored. It looked like a catacomb down here only, instead of bodies, there were kegs of ale and beer and bottles of wine.
As he was wandering around, he saw a light coming down the hall toward him. He moved toward the light and ran into Paul.
“Dawyn! By the Founders, you nearly scared the life out of me, man!” he exclaimed, as he set down the keg he had been carrying and shook his hand. “Let me guess, Elizabeth sent you down here,” he said. “That woman has been telling everyone I’m losing my mind! She probably sent you down here to make sure I hadn’t gotten lost.”
Dawyn simply smiled. “Well, she asked me to come down here to help you bring up some kegs, but perhaps that was her ulterior motive.”
“Bah, women. Can’t live with them, can’t hardly live without them,” Paul said half-heartedly. Everyone in town knew that Paul and Elizabeth were madly in love. It was believed that the back and forth jabs were one of the secrets to their long successful marriage.
So Dawyn proceeded to help bring up kegs to the pantry where they would be brought out as the night progressed. By the end of it, both he and Paul were sweating. Paul walked over to the beer tap and poured two tall mugs of the dark brown liquid for each of them to enjoy. Paul raised his mug. “I propose a toast. Here’s to lovely women, a safe home and our health.” Dawyn raised his mug in turn and they slammed their stoneware together loudly before taking a long swig.
While the men talked, Anwyn and Elizabeth came walking down the stairs. Elizabeth had transformed Anwyn. She now wore a long dress that accentuated her figure, hardy walking shoes and her hair and skin looked like they had been washed. Dawyn hadn’t noticed how dirty Anwyn had been until now. She looked stunning. Her brown hair was straight and flowed down to her mid-back, while her dark-green eyes looked hypnotizing with the powder and make-up Elizabeth had applied to her face.
Paul whistled when he saw the ladies come down the stairs. “Is that pretty lady with you, Dawyn? If so, then I must say you’re one lucky man.”
Dawyn smiled. “It’s complicated. She’s with me but she’s not with me, if you know what I mean.” He found himself blushing, despite being a middle-aged man.
“Ah, I do understand. Yes, I certainly do.” Paul gave him a wink and went to introduce himself.
A short while later, Anwyn and Dawyn were seated in a private dining room off of the kitchen, a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup and a hot plate of lamb before each of them.
“By the Founders, I’m starved,” Anwyn said, slicing into her large haunch of lamb and eating faster than Dawyn had seen almost anyone eat before.
“I bet you are,” Dawyn replied. “As we discussed, what happened to you? How were you captured? What are you doing on this side of the White Mountains?”
Anwyn chewed for a bit and swallowed her bite of lamb before replying to him. “It’s a very long story, and one probably for another time, for it would take a day or more to tell it in full. But the short answer to why I crossed the White Mountains is that I was exiled in accordance with a prophecy.”
Exiled? Dawyn had thought the druids were civilized. “Exiled,” he asked aloud, “in accordance with a prophecy? Why did they choose you? Were you named in the prophecy?”
“Not exactly,” Anwyn said. “Every sixteen years since the days of the Founding, a female druid above the age of sixteen but less than thirty-two is chosen randomly from a lottery. That woman is exiled and sent beyond the White Mountains. There is a prophecy that says that, at some point, the saviors of our world will come and that a druid will be instrumental in their victory over ‘the enemy’. The enemy isn’t named, nor does the prophecy say when these supposed saviors are going to appear. The druids were tasked, some say by the Founders themselves, to follow this prophecy faithfully. Druid women are sent across the mountains where they become medicine women or seamstresses or other professions, while they look for the signs that will point to the saviors’ coming.”
“What signs are you supposed to be searching for?”
Anwyn sighed. “That’s the most frustrating part. I don’t know. The prophecies are very vague. If the Founders truly did give these instructions to my people, these prophecies would seem to be evidence that they were not omnipotent or so capable of predicting the future, as many legends claim.”
“Hmm,” Dawyn said, “and how did you come to be captured?”
“I was working as a medicine woman’s apprentice in a small town named Aralon, in the foothills of the White Mountains, near Ghyver Pass, when word must have gotten out that I was a druid. The woman I was apprenticing under, Alayna, was also a druid. One night as we were preparing to close up shop, several men came into the store. They sought to overpower Alayna but she transformed into a wolf and fought them. She killed two of their number before she herself was killed. They came for me and I tried to transform but something was holding me back, as if there was a barrier in my mind that wouldn’t let my body do what I wanted it to. A man came in, one who I believe was a mage, and began casting some magic. I felt myself shifting against my will and soon found myself as a bear. They tied me up and placed the collar around my neck. Once the collar was on, I was helpless. No amount of trying allowed me to return to my human form. I had been in the form of a bear for six months before you rescued me.” She looked away, “I think I was on the verge of going mad and would have lost myself if you hadn’t found me. I have heard of druids who lose themselves if they remain in animal form for too long. They start to think like the animal and lose part of their humanity forever.”
Six months, Dawyn thought to himself. Oh, how this poor girl has suffered. “Do you know who was responsible for this crime against you?”
“A name was repeated quite frequently while I was caged - Lord Garik. Apparently, he was in charge of these bandits or ruffians. They transported me across the land and showed me off. I think I even went before Lord Garik once, though that time is fuzzy.”
Lord Garik. The name of the mysterious new leader of the criminal underworld had first come to the king’s attention six months ago, when several local assassins’ guilds lost their leaders to a veiled assassin claiming to serve Lord Garik. Since that time, the assassins’ and thieves’ guilds across the kingdom and, reportedly, in all of the lands between the Valorian Ocean to the east and the Aryian Ocean to the west, had all come to serve Lord Garik or die. The number of assassinations had begun to spike. The leaders of several cities and towns in the kingdom had written to the king reporting that their city watch could barely keep up with the number of deaths. Curfews were put in place with little effect, and the army of Tar Ebon was too cumbersome to be deployed against this enemy. The numbers of thefts across the lands were up as well, with riches being stolen from affluent lords' and ladies’ homes and wealthy merchants. Warehouses were raided and food and rare luxury items stolen to be sold on the black market.
“By that look on your face,” Anwyn said, “I’d say you’ve heard of Lord Garik?”
“Yes, I certainly have. The rising number of deaths and thefts throughout the kingdom concerns the king. Before now, there was always a sort of balance in the underworld. Assassins’ guilds preyed upon one another, thieves stole from other thieves, that sort of thing. Common citizens were rarely the victims of assassinations or thefts. You could almost say that the underworld stayed true to its name and did not draw much attention. Now, with a consolidation of power under a single leader, the guilds have no one else to kill or steal from except the common people. The underworld itself is spilling out onto the streets and causing havoc throughout the kingdom and beyond.”
Dawyn sat back in his chair. “I actually have a meeting later today regarding the matter and what action we will take. The council of lords is placing increasing pressure upon His Majesty to take decisi
ve action. We will see what is decided.”
“I will not hold you any longer then,” Anwyn said. “You should go to the king, as this is important. I will be here when you finish. I cannot thank you enough for what you did. I saw dozens of people walk right by as I fought for my humanity but only you did the right thing.” She stood up from her chair, walked over to Dawyn, took his head in her hands, and kissed him on the lips. The kiss lasted for what seemed like quite a while and his passion almost overtook him but, at last, she pulled away, smiled at him, and strode from the room.
What a woman, Dawyn thought, looking after her.
Chapter 8: Meetings
As Dawyn and Shadow approached the Celestial Palace, the Shadow Watch Guards at the gates saluted him and he returned the gesture. The Celestial Palace, located at the center of the northern wall of the city, was a massive, sprawling complex that dated back to the time of the Founding. Many of the buildings in Tar Ebon could date their origins to that time, because Tar Ebon had been one of the seven great cities created by the Founders when they first came to this world. Using magic that the world had never seen, they had constructed wonders such as the Tower of the Seven Stars and the Celestial Palace that, even today, were admired and studied by architects the world over. Although much from that time over a millennium ago had been lost, monuments such as the palace remained as immortal reminders of the past.
Leaving Shadow in the royal stables on the east side of the palace, Dawyn made his way into the east wing. This was the section of the palace where the Shadow Watch Guards resided, along with the servants, advisors and some lesser nobility. The western side of the palace held the royal families’ chambers along with guest bedrooms for high-ranking nobility that might stay.
As commander of the Shadow Watch Guard, his chambers on the second floor of the palace were larger than average, while remaining functional. The room contained a washbasin atop a table that sat next to a single-person bed along the north wall, a sitting chair in the southeast corner of the room and an eastward facing balcony that overlooked the palatial gardens and stables. Dawyn would occasionally find himself sitting out on the balcony at the table and watching the people pass by underneath, while feeling the warmth of the sun on his face in the morning light.
His journey to his chambers was brief, allowing him time to switch out of his sweaty uniform and cloak and into his formal uniform. The formal uniform was reserved for special purposes, such as personal meetings with the king, parades and other official royal events. It featured streak-free, shined knee-high black boots, tight, black cowhide pants, a thin black belt with a golden buckle and a black tunic that had the seal of Tar Ebon embroidered on it and ruffles at the wrists and collar. The uniform was finished off with a hoodless cloak trimmed with golden thread, making it appear more regal. The Tar Ebon emblem on the back of the cloak was larger than the normal version and was of golden thread.
After washing briefly and changing his uniform, he made his way down into the palace dungeons. The king had requested his presence in his personal chambers, but Dawyn had something to investigate first.
He arrived at the subterranean prison that lay beneath the east wing of the palace and returned the salute of the guards waiting just inside the doors. Security in the prison was tight. Two guards stood outside of the door and two stood inside that would not unlock the door unless the proper authorization was given by the guards on the outside. A squad of a dozen men on the inside, only a shout away, could defend the door if an enemy attempted to breach the facility. A tube running from the room to the barracks above was used to sound the alarm and bring additional reinforcements, if needed.
“Has the city watch brought the six prisoners?” Dawyn said after being admitted into the prison area and returning the salutes of the men within. The man he was speaking to was the lieutenant in charge of this contingent of guards. Shifts were taken in twelve-hour increments and the changing of the guard was done as seamlessly as possible to ensure the prisoners were never alone.
The lieutenant, Dawyn could not remember his name now, checked the prison roster and nodded. “Aye, commander, city watch post thirty-three hauled in six prisoners about an hour ago. Said they had been dealing in slavery and had been involved in an assault, sir.”
“That sounds like them,” Dawyn replied. “I apprehended them personally. Let them stew for a while and then see what you can get out of them – in a humane manner, please. Have a report sent to my chambers with information on who they are working for and anything else. They clearly have a boss; I want to find out who that boss is and where I can find him.”
“Aye, sir,” the lieutenant replied with another brief salute. “I’ll do as you request.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant…?” He trailed off.
“Sheffield, sir. Lieutenant Clarence Sheffield.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Lieutenant Sheffield.”
Dawyn left the prison facility, returning to the main floor of the palace. He crossed the grand hallway that ran down the center of the palace, receiving bows or curtsies from serving staff and salutes from passing guards, and made his way to the west wing of the palace. He knocked crisply on the large oak doors. Being one of the few rooms where even the commander of the Shadow Watch Guard had to ask permission to enter, the chambers of the king were guarded heavily. Two guards flanked the doors, holding halberds and having long swords at their right hip. At each end of the hallway stood two more guards, bringing the total number of guards in the hall alone to six at all times.
Once admitted to the room by the king’s servant, Wilfred, Dawyn was asked to take a seat in the antechamber. The antechamber was a large room, with many pieces of furniture ranging from long couches covered with pillows to more functional armchairs. Along the west wall, near the large windows that overlooked the western gardens, was a large table. This was the king’s “thinking table”, as he called it, where he discussed strategy when in his chambers.
The security continued in this room, with a Shadow Watch Guard standing in each corner. These guards carried small crossbows and long swords and were lethal with the weapons. As the personal guards of the king, these men had been vetted carefully for both mental and physical capability. Even the strongest man could be a threat to the king if he could not control his emotions or fooled easily. All eyes had turned to him as he entered and each of the guards gave a brief bow of their heads to acknowledge their commander. These guards, like the guards in the hallway, all wore the functional uniforms; though, unlike Dawyn, they wore open-faced conical helmets with a small crossbar to protect the nose.
As Dawyn scanned the room casually, his eyes fell upon a figure seated in one of the armchairs. He could see long, red hair that looked as though it belonged to a woman. Curious, he stepped forward and rounded the chair, finding himself meeting eyes with a young woman. The woman wore red slippers that peeped out from beneath an ankle-length burgundy dress trimmed with white, which sported a modest-cut bosom. She wore facial makeup and her lips were ruby-red. Ruby earrings pierced her ears, while a band with a white diamond centered in it sat on her forehead. Her nails were the color of her lips and her piercing blue eyes were full of intelligence as she studied him in turn.
The headband with the diamond in it named her as a mage of the Tower of the Seven Stars. The diamonds that mages wore on their foreheads were said to help focus their power and allow them to easily perform magic that they otherwise would not be capable of performing. The symbol of the Tower, sewn in white, with seven white stars arranged in a crescent above the Tower was visible on her left breast, also proclaiming her allegiance.
Mages could come in all shapes, sizes and colors and there was no easy way to identify a mage. Some claimed that by looking into the eyes of a mage, one could tell if they were using their magic. Stories told that their eyes would glow white, though Dawyn had never seen this. Regardless, mages were hard to identify if one did not know what to look for. A mage that chose not to reveal their ident
ity could easily do so if they desired, by removing their headband and wearing plain clothing.
Dawyn bowed courteously to the woman and she stood to offer him a curtsy in return. Although Dawyn did not recognize this woman, he presumed that she had to be of significant rank, being invited into the king’s personal antechamber. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. My name is Dawyn Darklance, commander of the Shadow Watch Guard. May I ask your name?”
The young woman smiled, seeming to find the formality of his introduction funny. “My name is Alivia O’Leary, Commander Darklance. It is a pleasure to meet you as well. I am a mage from the Tower, as you probably surmised already, sent as an adviser to the king on a matter of mutual importance to both the palace and the Tower.”
“Have you been waiting long?” Dawyn said.
“Not long. I had only just arrived a few moments before you.”
As they spoke, Wilfred came into the room bearing a platter that contained a tea pot, three tea cups and a plate of small cakes. He set it on the table directly in front of Alivia and bowed. “Is there anything else that my lord and lady might desire?”
Alivia shook her head and Dawyn replied, “No, thank you Wilfred, this will be enough for now.”
With a bow, Wilfred took his leave and returned to the servants’ quarters along the east wall of the antechamber, where a stairway granted access to the kitchens.
The two waited in silence, only the sounds of sipping tea and quiet chewing escaping from either person, but they did not have to wait long. Shortly after Dawyn arrived, the doors to King Algier III’s chambers on the south wall of the antechamber opened and the king himself walked out. The king wore a white robe with golden slippers and was without his crown. King Algier the Third was a man in his late middle years, with a touch of gray at the sides of his hair and a receding hairline. Although the years had not been kind to the king’s body, his spirit remained unbroken and he wore a kindly smile as his eyes fell upon Dawyn and Alivia sitting in his antechamber.
The Shadow Trilogy Complete Box Set Page 5
