“Are you insane?” Kilren shouted. “We've found what we were looking for. Let's get out of here.”
“We need to put a stop to this,” the knight said, shaking his head. “Too many people have died. We have to end it now.”
“We don't know how many more people have died,” the rogue pointed out. “Getting ourselves killed isn't going to help them now, either way.”
“This enemy has to be brought to justice, Kilren,” the Telian replied. “We can't just abandon our quest.”
“Our quest was to find this,” the rogue said, pointing at the tower. “We were told to stop it if we could. Darian, I'm not sure we can.”
“I agree, Sir Darian,” the warrior shouted over the wind. “I don't feel the risk is justified.”
“We can't be sure of that,” the Telian replied. “I think we should at least take a closer look.”
“Even that could get us killed!” the rogue yelled.
“I know, but we need to...” the knight began.
“Darian,” Gwendolyn interrupted. “What do you think Lord Andor would tell you if he were here?”
The young knight stood in silence for a moment, staring at the tower beyond.
“He'd tell me to return with the information,” he admitted.
“Then, don't you think that's what we should do?” she asked.
“I suppose you're...” the Telian started to say.
Before he finished his statement, the green light emanating from the tower suddenly began pulsating. The wind increased in force and began blowing directly from west to east. The cloud cover above began flying at great speed toward the kingdom of Innalas.
“That's not good!” the rogue observed.
“No,” the bard agreed, “I doubt it is.”
“That's another attack,” the knight shouted, pointing at the ominous clouds.
“You're probably right,” the warrior admitted. “That does change things.”
“Are you both crazy?” Kilren said. “Have you forgotten those people frozen in ice down there? We're no match for whoever did that!”
“Not necessarily,” the sorceress yelled above the noise. “That took a very special type of magic, Kilren. And it took a great deal of preparation. Our enemy is unquestionably skilled, but they're not going to be able to simply imprison us in ice. They can certainly create artifacts and cast powerful and persistent spells, but that doesn't mean they'll be any match for us in battle. In fact, the dread of my champion may be enough to make them surrender, if we can only reach them.”
“You, too?” the rogue said, shaking his head. “Did you three enter a suicide pact while I was asleep or something?”
“My love,” Erana shouted, taking the rogue by the hand as she spoke. “We have to try. How many of my people... of our people, are going to die if we don't?”
“Alright, fine,” Kilren replied. “Lead the way, Sir Darian. I'm willing to die in your service. At least I won't have to wait long to prove it.”
Without responding, the knight turned and began marching across the plateau, making his way directly toward the fortress of their foe. As they crossed the plain, more and more dark vapor formed above their destination only to be blown ever eastward. There was little doubt that another attack was underway or shortly would be. The sooner they could bring this to an end, the more lives they could save.
As they drew near the tower, the band lessened its pace. As Ian pointed out, they couldn't afford to rush in and get themselves killed. If they were to put a stop to this, they would have to be very careful with their own lives. The sorceress and the bard cautiously examined the walkway leading up to the entrance, as well as the massive metal door that barred admittance to the tower. The rogue's talents were also called upon to search for traps of a more mundane nature.
After a few minutes of very attentive scrutiny, the trio decided that the entryway was safe. Whoever occupied this fortress didn't seem overly concerned with the thought that enemies might make their way inside. The rogue found that idea very disconcerting, but the knight felt it was simply fortune smiling on them. They would likely find out who was right before long.
Something just above the doorway attracted special attention from the dwarf. It was an image carved into the stonework; a family crest the bard was certain he recognized.
“Well, now,” he said, staring up at the emblem as he spoke. “I didn't expect that.”
“Expect what?” the rogue asked, his eye following the gaze of the dwarf.
“That crest,” the bard replied, pointing as he did so. “I recognize it.”
“Well, what is it?”
“It's a variation on the family crest of the House of Rallin,” Ian replied.
“What is the House of Rallin?” the rogue asked.
“The last royal house of Solarin,” the Telian replied, glancing at the emblem above. “And you're right, Ian. That is a variation of it, but I don't recognize it.”
“No,” the dwarf said, shaking his head. “I don't suppose you would. It's the crest of Duke Saress.”
“I've never heard of him,” the warrior replied.
“Again, that's hardly surprising,” the dwarf said. “He was killed roughly twenty years ago in one of the earliest large-scale battles in the war between Mikral and Solarin.”
“If he's dead,” the rogue said, turning his gaze to the bard, “what's his crest doing on this tower? Has it been here that long?”
“Both of those are valid questions,” the bard replied. “In answer to the second one, I would say no, the tower certainly hasn't been here twenty years. Or even ten for that matter. The stonework is far too new. As for the first, I'm not sure why it would be here. Of course... It's possible he wasn't actually killed... Sarena, my dear.”
“Yes, master Ian?”
“Do you remember my telling you, oh more than a week ago now, that the wizard Tyllas reminded me of something more recent, but that I couldn't put my finger on it?”
“I certainly do,” the sorceress nodded.
“Well,” he replied, “I've just figured out what it was. Duke Saress had a remarkable connection to animals from an extremely young age. If fact, so one story goes, he was lost on a family hunting trip when he was just seven. They found him a week later living quite happily with a mother bear and her cubs. As he grew older, this ability actually increased in power – as did his skills in the arcane arts.”
“All that just slipped your mind?” the rogue asked in disbelief.
“Aye, lad,” the bard replied, looking at the rogue with one raised eyebrow. “As hard as it is to believe, my mind simply didn't make the connection between a dead wizard that had once lived for a short time with a family of bears and some unknown magic-user who had raised an army of tattoo warded trolls. In retrospect, I suppose it is a fairly obvious connection...”
“I take your point,” the rogue admitted with a chuckle.
“Thank you!” the dwarf replied before continuing. “One other fact that didn't seem relevant until this very moment was that Duke Saress's body was never identified. This was hardly remarkable, all things considered.”
“How do you mean?” the rogue asked.
“Well,” Ian said, “the bodies lay on the battlefield for more than a week. Neither the forces of Mikral or Solarin took the time to recover their dead because King Palnar pressed his attack so ferociously. By the time the field was cleared, looters had already collected a great deal of the weapons, armor, clothes, etc; especially from the nobles. And, of course, the battle took place near the edge of the mountains so, between the carrion birds, wolves, and other animals... well... not everyone could be identified.”
“That's horrible!” Gwendolyn exclaimed.
“Yes, my dear,” the bard nodded. “War is. In any event, my point is that the Duke's body was never found. If I were to guess, I'd say he might have survived the battle.”
“Why didn't he just return to the Solarin?” Kilren asked.
“Another
excellent question,” Ian admitted. “We can't know for sure. However, I'd be willing to make some guesses. More than likely, by the time he'd recovered, Solarin had already fallen. If that was the case, he wouldn't have had a home to come back to. One might also suppose that he was terribly injured. He was, after all, left for dead. He might have been discovered by some of the animals that had come to feed. Of course, all this is pure speculation. It's a theory that seems to fit our possible facts, but I could be completely wrong. We don't even know that Duke Saress is alive. All we know is that his crest is here. Of course, there's more that's bothering me...”
“Like what?” the Telian asked.
“Mainly,” the bard said, looking into the eyes of the knight, “that I now remember where I've seen that old man before.”
“Which old man?”
“The one frozen in the ice, Sir Darian,” the bard replied, shaking his head. “I saw him almost forty years ago. It was also the first and last time I laid my eyes on the armor of the Solarin royal guards. That old man is none other than Prince Calmon, heir to the throne of Solarin.”
“Are you positive?” Tealor asked.
“Absolutely, Captain,” the bard nodded. “I was certain I knew his face, but I couldn't place him. For one thing he's forty years older or nearly so. The moment I saw that crest I remembered where I had seen him before – and exactly who he was. There can be no doubt.”
“Then, those people frozen in the cavern...” the knight began.
“Are the royal family of Solarin,” the dwarf interrupted. “Yes, I believe so.”
“So, he kidnapped his own family?” the Telian asked.
“It would appear so,” the bard said thoughtfully. “At least, if he's the one behind all this.”
“Was he always a lunatic?” Kilren asked, changing the subject slightly.
“Who?” The knight replied.
“Help me please,” the rogue said, turning his eyes to the skies above. “Duke Saress, Darian! Who else in all of Areon would I possibly be asking something like that about at this moment?”
“Yeah,” the Telian replied quietly. “I see what you mean...”
“No,” the bard replied, “No, he certainly wasn't always a lunatic. Even assuming he is one now, of course. He was extraordinarily kind and gentle. In fact, many were surprised that he took the field to fight. It would have been much more in his nature to seek a diplomatic solution.”
“Well, that doesn't sound much like our mysterious enemy, now does it?” Kilren pointed out.
“No,” the dwarf admitted. “I suppose it doesn't.”
“The only way we're going to be certain is to confront whoever it is,” the knight pointed out. “To do that, we have to get past this door.”
“You're right, Sir Darian,” the warrior nodded. “Let's go.”
Immediately, the young knight reached out and grabbed the ring that served as the door's handle. With a quick turn, he opened the door.
“Oh good,” the rogue said sarcastically. “It wasn't even locked. At least we know that, whoever it is, they're not afraid of us.”
“Don't worry about that, Kilren,” the warrior said, stepping through the doorway as he spoke. “They will be in just a few minutes.”
“Yeah,” the rogue chuckled. “Right.”
The band quickly made their way into the first chamber of the tall, round tower. The ground floor appeared to be nothing more than a large empty room. On the far wall, there was a doorway that led to stairs that appeared to climb to the levels above.
“Well, at least there aren't any cellars filled with horrible monstrosities to worry about,” the rogue said optimistically.
“Maybe,” the bard replied. “But you may want to take a good look around, just to be sure.”
“Actually,” Kilren nodded. “That's a good idea. Let's you and I check for that. Sir Darian, check the top of those stairs and make sure nothing nasty comes down on us, if you would.”
“Certainly,” the knight replied, readying his sword.
“One moment,” the bard said. “Sarena, dear, would you keep an eye out for magic traps? We can't afford to lose our Telian.”
“Yes,” the sorceress replied. “I quite agree.”
As Sarena and Darian began cautiously climbing the stairs, Kilren and Ian began to carefully inspect the floor. After a few minutes, they were satisfied that there were no lower levels – at least, not any which could be reached by normal means. Just as they concluded their search, the knight and the sorceress reappeared.
“There's nothing up there,” the knight said, stepping back into the chamber.
“What do you mean?” the warrior asked.
“I mean: there's nothing up there,” he replied.
“Aye, lad,” Ian nodded. “But what exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean: there's nothing up there!” he said again. “How many times do I have to say that?”
“Ha!” the rogue replied, pointing his finger at the Telian. “Now you know how it feels!”
“What?” Darian asked.
“Never mind,” the rogue chuckled.
“My love,” the sorceress said, “the idea that our noble knight is trying to convey is that there is nothing up those steps, but more steps. We went as far as I felt we could safely go. There are only the stairs; nothing more. No rooms, no landings, only one step after another.”
“What do you make of that, my heart?” the captain asked.
“It's a diversion,” she replied. “At least, I think it is. It's simply there to waste our time and discourage us. Of course, on the other hand, it could lead directly to the top of the tower. We can't be completely certain. However, I would suggest that either Ian or I search this chamber for magical auras before we take the time to climb to the very top of this stairway.”
“Allow me, dear lady,” the bard replied before immediately starting his sing-song chant.
“Do you see anything?” the rogue asked the moment he stopped.
“Give me a moment, lad,” Ian replied. “It takes a minute.”
The eyes of the dwarf moved slowly around the chamber as he searched for magical energy.
“The whole tower seems slightly infused with arcane power,” he observed after a moment. “However, there does seem to be a hidden doorway right over there.”
“Where exactly?” Kilren asked, doing his best to follow the dwarf's pointing finger.
“Follow me, lad,” the bard replied, strolling confidently across the room.
The bard moved to a section of the tower that seemed like any other and stepped forward. He passed through the apparent wall, but sprang back immediately with a cry of pain. His hair and beard were covered in frost and his face was bright red.
“I should have expected that,” he said, gently reaching up to feel his freezing flesh. “There's a stairway through the wall, but the air in there is a tad on the cold side.”
The knight stepped over to the bard and instantly healed his mild case of frostbite.
“How do we get through?” the warrior asked. “Could you protect us, my dear?”
“Not from the cold, my love, no,” she said, shaking her head.
“Perhaps you could fight cold with fire,” the rogue suggested. “If you see what I mean.”
“I do,” she nodded, “and perhaps we could if we didn't have far to go. I suspect we could make it. That spell can't be easy to maintain. The larger the area enchanted, the more difficult it is to sustain perpetually.”
“I agree,” the bard said, “but we can't be sure. I'd rather not freeze to death if we can help it.”
“I should be able to take a look,” the Telian replied. “I'll see how far it goes.”
“You'll end up a block of ice,” Kilren asserted.
“Yes,” Gwendolyn agreed. “We can't split up like that. What if something happened to you?”
“I'll be fine,” the knight replied with a smile. “I won't go far and the Eilian will ensure that I
don't even feel the cold.”
“Are you sure?” the rogue asked. “You've never done anything like that before.”
“No,” Darian admitted, “but they have. Just give me a moment.”
The knight knelt on the floor with his head bowed in prayer. He explained his current mission to the Eilian and asked them to protect him from the intense cold. The Telian then rose and stepped confidently through the portal.
The first thing that surprised him was that he couldn't see the illusionary wall from the other side. To him, it appeared that his companions were standing in front of a very obvious – and empty – doorway. The second thing he hadn't expected was that his armor was quickly being covered in ice. The surrounding air felt quite comfortable to him, but he knew that wasn't the case. The Eilian were simply shielding him from the cold.
The young knight climbed quickly up the stairs. At their top was a landing that led to a long narrow hall. A chamber was at its end but, beyond that, he could tell nothing more. Still, the searing cold seemed confined to the stairway, so it would probably be an easy matter for the two sorceresses to keep it temporarily at bay.
“I think we can make it,” the knight said, stepping back into the room. “It's only the stairs we need to worry about. Well, at least that's as much as we know right now.”
“Excellent,” the sorceress said. “Gwendolyn, my dear, if you'll take the lead a short distance behind Darian, I'll defend our backs.”
“Certainly,” the maiden replied with a smile “Lead the way, Sir Darian. I'll do my best not to singe you.”
“Thanks,” the knight chuckled before turning to make his way back up the stairs.
The young sorceress focused her power and wrapped her hands in flame. Fire shot from her fingers through the invisible doorway before she stepped onto the stairs. At first, the cold almost took her breath away. It was like diving into a freezing mountain stream during the height of summer. Whatever she did, she couldn't lose her concentration. They needed her flames if they were going to survive.
She threw jets of fire before her as she climbed the stairs a short distance behind the young knight. The arcane energy flowing through her veins drove back the eternal winter that filled the surrounding air and wrapped her in a burning warmth. The rest of the band marched along at her heels while Sarena brought up the rear. She backed up the stairs carefully, using her consuming flames to protect the party from the cold that tried relentlessly to attack them from behind.
The Beasts of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 2) Page 29
