"That we can do."
They stood up to greet the riders who now came into view. Two soldiers, wearing Edward's colors. They reigned up as they saw D'siderin and Mary. Both riders were young men still looking to make a name for themselves.
"What's your business, grandpa?" asked one soldier.
"Journeying north. I have a son living near Far Greening."
"Why travel now? Don't like the new king?"
"Riverdowns is too dangerous for us common folk. My wife and I will return when it is safe once more."
"I see. Have you seen other riders?"
"None, sir. We are the only travelers, but it does look like horses passed ahead of us."
"It does. Your wife looks familiar to me. What is your trade?"
D'siderin moved quickly and struck the soldier with his staff. The man fell to the dirt. The other soldier drew his sword and rode forward. He fell at D'siderin's feet, a dagger in his throat. D'siderin looked at Mary who shrugged her shoulders.
"I didn't know you had a dagger," he said.
Mary smiled at him.
"My father was a great weapons master, perhaps the best in the world. He made sure his daughter could defend herself. I learned his lessons well."
"Ha! I thought I was protecting you. Well, you're not the first woman to make me feel a fool."
"Better feeling a fool than being one, D'siderin. I appreciate your efforts. I do feel safer around you."
"I could say the same for you. I will take anything these poor fools have of value. We have horses now. Let's ride through the night."
"I used to love to ride in the darkness as a girl. Let us go silent, I wish to think."
"As you wish, my lady."
Mary smiled and accepted his help to mount her horse. They rode north.
Chapter 10
"This was once a beautiful city," said Darkin Rost. "Penarol was a jewel of a trading fort. Look what my people have done to it. There was a boulevard lined with palm trees leading to the gates. Merchants would open their tents along the boulevard and the gates stayed open during the daylight hours. The smell of spices was strong in the air. There was music at all hours but it did not have the decadence of some cities I have seen. No, it was a wonderful place, and the people gracious. I spent much time there. It was my home if anyplace could claim me." He drifted off into his thoughts a faint smile on his face as he looked into his past.
They stood on a rise a half-mile from the city and the damage was obvious. The dead still lay on the earth around the city and the broken gates still hung crookedly on their hinges. They could see figures on the wall, but at that distance it was impossible to see if they were Turucks. Hobart Hufflen and Loric had gone ahead to scout the land to the city. The little Tuor could slip through most defenses, but the bow was his weapon, anything else would not be effective. Thus Loric followed the Tuor like a shadow.
"I am sorry for you, Darkin," said Elberra. "I know what it is to lose a cherished memory. The town I called home supported me in my travels for as long as it was there for me to return to, I was comforted, but the last time I returned there it had been destroyed. No one was left. I never found out if anyone survived."
"What destroyed it?" asked Moria.
"Nagthagora, a sorcerer who became king of the Anetheans. The town leaders defied him and he cast them down. I will never return while that creature lives."
"The craving of power, both for Nagthagora and Tag Makk have brought much evil into the world," said Darkin. "We have much to do, we inadequate foes of these sorcerers, but we shall do all we can."
"We will wait until Loric and Hobart return," said Kerreth. "Gorm, plan our entrance to the city without Turucks discovering us."
"The walls have been breached in many places. They cannot watch all cracks in the walls. We will see how many Turucks Hobart says remain. If there are Shadow Runners, it will be trickier."
"Shadow Runners!" snorted Darkin Rost. "Without the touch of the Menaloch they would be cowards, and I am not sure they are not cowards now. Their skill with weapons is barely above average. They are not to be feared."
"Still, they are hard to kill," said Kerreth. "We will provide for their presence."
"We can shelter down by those rocks until dawn," said Taina. "Might as well rest and eat before the fun begins."
The sun had just peered over the horizon when Blackthorne whispered to Kerreth.
"Someone comes. Alone."
They readied their weapons and waited silently. The night birds did not give alarm and no sounds of movement reached them.
Kerreth watched the small shape appear before him.
"It's Hobart," Kerreth hissed. "Where's Loric?"
"Captured. But I'm all right, thank you very much. I entered the city and return against great odds. No one worries about me."
"Explain about Loric!" said Kerreth.
"See what I mean?" He ducked a half-hearted backhand from Kerreth. "We couldn't see much from outside so we found our way in past the guards. Most of them are Turucks with some Penarols alongside. Forced to serve, I'd say. We made our way a few blocks toward the center of town when around a corner came twenty Turucks and two Shadow Runners. There were six archers among them. Loric didn't have a chance so he threw down his weapon but he made a show of it and that gave me the chance to slip back into the shadows. No one saw me."
"Did you see where they took him?" asked Moria.
"No. I thought it best to get back here."
"No matter," said Blackthorne. "I will find him."
"What if you are detected?" asked Gorm.
"If the Menaloch is across the sea, the Turucks have no one great enough here who can detect my magic."
Moria rolled her eyes.
They spent the day planning their approach to the city.
"Let's go," said Kerreth. "It is dark enough. Three teams. Dvorak, Elberra and Darkin for Loric, myself, Moria and Blackthorne for the Shadow Runners and Gorm, Hobart and Taina to find the city leaders."
"What if the Shadow Runners are with Loric or the leaders?" asked Hobart.
"Then we shall meet again sooner rather than later," replied Kerreth.
They moved swiftly across the ground to the city walls. Hobart led them to the spot he and Loric entered the city. Once inside, the teams split up.
Kerreth, Moria and Blackthorne moved through the eastern part of the city. It was a silent city, save for the voices of the Turucks soldiers. The Penarol people kept to their homes to keep their lives. Hastily dug graves lined the streets and many of the merchant shops had been destroyed. The color of the city had died to grayness even in the light from the lamps burning along the streets. Most of the windows of the buildings were dark and they saw little movement. Blackthorne cast ahead a faint spell to sense the Shadow Runners. Blackthorne started to move out of the shadows to pass through an archway.
"Wait, there's someone there," whispered Moria. She crept into the archway and there was thud. Moria dragged the body of the Turuck into the shadows and singled to Kerreth, who nodded. Moria took the lead.
The streets were covered in debris; rocks, broken boxes, bottles and bodies here and there.
"Sanitation is a little lacking," said Blackthorne. "I would believe the Turucks are not bothered by the smell. Perhaps it is an odor they are familiar with?"
"The other cities they sacked did not impress me either," said Moria. "Darkin did not mention it."
"No, but I do not stay down wind of Darkin if there is a choice," said Blackthorne.
"Shh," said Kerreth. "You're getting too loud."
Moria led them into a major square where the weekly market had been. The carts and wagons remains still smoked. The produce smelled rotten and the stones stained with dried blood. They moved quickly between the wreckage as Blackthorne took the lead.
"Shadow Runners are close by. That building up there looks to have been important. Let us approach cautiously." They moved up the street as far as the shadows allowed them u
ntil they were nearly across the street from the building.
"I will go first," said Kerreth. "Do either of you see any sentries?"
"No."
"Looks deserted," said Moria. She began to move with Kerreth.
"Hold!" hissed Blackthorne.
A dark shape detached from a building across the street and swiftly entered the building next to it.
"Looks like a place to start," said Kerreth. He winked at Moria and sprinted across the street. When he reached the other side two figures jumped out at him. Kerreth's swords flashed as he defended himself.
"Shadow Runners," said Blackthorne as he and Moria ran to Kerreth's aid.
Kerreth's blades were slender and curved slightly to the points. A cold silver metal forged in the depths of time by the Zidar on the Isle of Cothos. Likely crafted by Mauran de Arayr or perhaps Cothos himself assisted in their making for they never dulled or were marked in battle. They appeared new as the day they were made.
The Shadow Runners attacked and sparks flew when Kerreth parried their swords and he pushed them backward. They moved apart to engage him from two sides. Kerreth watched them closely, each sword pointed at his opponents. Just as they prepared to move in, Moria and Blackthorne arrived with swords flashing. Released from both Shadow Runners, Kerreth turned his full attention on one and forced him backward. Kerreth's swords shredded the black tunic and flecks of blood seemed to float in the air. The Shadow Runner was losing but his expression did not change; he fought as a soulless soldier and was unaware of his plight. Kerreth's sword severed his wrist, but the Shadow Runner did not pause; he increased his speed with his remaining hand. Kerreth beheaded him and the Shadow Runner collapsed. Kerreth turned to the others; Moria and Blackthorne stood over the body of the second Shadow Runner.
"Hard to kill," said Moria.
"Just shells, no soul remains," said Blackthorne. "They are filled with the power of the Menaloch and fight heedless of pain. If they have Shadow Runners in any numbers, it will be difficult to stop the Turucks."
"Agreed," said Kerreth. "Now let's see what in this building they guarded."
The door was open and dim pink light cast shadows on the walls. Kerreth entered first, then Moria. Blackthorne waited in the dark doorway. They checked each room of the first floor but found no signs of life. Moria began to descend the cellar stairs when a soft noise sounded upstairs. Kerreth silently climbed the stairs, his swords ready, Moira right behind him. The sounds came from one of the rooms. Kerreth pushed the door open. A tall figure hog-tied and facedown began to regain consciousness.
"Loric!" whispered Moria. She hurried to him and cut him free.
"Oh," gasped Loric. "My head. I don't know what they did to me but I've never had a hangover like this one."
Moria helped him to his feet. Loric was still unsteady and his white face dotted with sweat. Blackthorne entered the room and rushed to Loric. He passed his hand over Loric's face.
"Ah, I can handle this. The others are outside."
"All of them?" asked Kerreth.
"Yes," said Blackthorne. "There are a couple Penarols with them." He focused his attention on Loric again. Kerreth left them and hurried down the stairs to the waiting Penarols.
"Kerreth, this is Garbyth and Jarnkor," said Gorm. "They are two of the remaining elders of Penarol City."
"Well met, gentlemen. We have killed two Shadow Runners, were there anymore?"
"No. Just the two, but their power was fierce and kept our soldiers under their control."
"A minor spell," said Blackthorne, joining them. "They tried to put one on Loric but his Celaeri blood wouldn't accept it. Not pleasant in any case. Dvorak, you and I should be able to release the Penarol soldiers from the Shadow Runner's spell within the hour. Come, I will show you what to do. Elberra, may we have your protection while we work?"
"Of course," said Elberra. "I would like nothing so much." The trio moved quickly to the interior of the city.
"We have called the council," said Jarnkor. "We will take control of our city again."
"Good. What more do you need from us?" asked Kerreth.
"You have done more than we deserve. With our soldiers returned to their senses, our people will emerge from their hiding places. We will rebuild our city. I sense you wish to leave Penarol. How may we help you?"
"Fairly spoken, good Jarnkor. We would track the Turucks across the sea. Is there a boat for our use?"
"Ah, yes. You may take my own boat, and if you cannot return it, I am still ahead. I thank you for our lives. It is called the Mirage Queen, moored at the far end of the docks. My captain is Lakfor. Here is my ring to give him to vouch for your use of the boat. Tell him to come to my house, I will explain all to him."
"Let us gather our supplies and we will be ready," said Gorm. "I look forward to sailing again. It has been years."
"Good," said Kerreth. "The helm will be yours. Get the boat prepared for when Blackthorne and Dvorak are finished we shall depart."
Gorm, Loric, Hobart, Darkin and Taina set off for the waterfront.
"I am obligated to warn you," said Jarnkor. "The Turucks carry an evil with them. Tag Makk executed all the other council members. Garbyth and I hid when their army approached. I felt the evil come with the Turucks."
"That is why we chase them," said Kerreth. "We are to destroy the evil you speak of."
"It is called the Menaloch," said Moria. "A being of pure evil as you said. Rumored to be one of the Jungeguds driven mad by Cothos, gnawing upon itself and everything it touches."
"I wish you success, but do not rush foolishly to this creature. It will be aware of your coming. I fear I shall never shake the feeling of its presence."
"Keep a good heart, it will pass I assure you. Thank you Jarnkor for your ship. You have been a great help to our cause. We shall leave you to rebuild your city."
Chapter 11
Quink had heard rumor of the passageways built into the castle and he had even found a short one between his quarters and the kitchen, which pleased him greatly. He kept the knowledge to himself; there were few things a servant could call his own and the passage was Quink's for good or ill. For the past two years, he used that passageway frequently and seldom missed the fresh muffins while they were still hot to the cook's chagrin. However, the mythical main maze of tunnels he never found in all his years of searching. He tapped the walls so incessantly that King Henry once ordered the steward to kill all the rats in the castle. It became Henry's obsession for weeks and Quink kept a step ahead of his king. The initial humor wore off the first time the king erupted in anger at the noise, throwing his goblet at the walls. Despite his efforts Quink's alert ears picked up no tidbit of useful information and he resigned himself to the nonexistence of the tunnels. At least, no one living seemed to hold such knowledge and he asked all the old servants he could find. Then he saw Lockwell open the tunnel for Hal's escape. A tunnel Quink had not found in his searching. There must be more, there had to be more, but he would not touch Lockwell's tunnel, he realized that immediately. His searching might be discovered and that may lead Edward's men to the trail of Hal's flight and those who aided him. Quink would leave that tunnel alone.
This night, after the fires had burned out and many of the escaped slaves were rounded up, Quink sat in the King's sitting room, waiting for King Edward to return. He was not sure what he could do to help Hal and he trembled at the thought of being called out as a spy. Each time Edward looked sharply at him Quink felt he was caught although he had done little and unless Edward spoke in front of him he heard nothing. As he usually went his own way until King Henry called for him, it would appear suspicious to follow Edward around the castle. He would have to wait for Edward to come to him. He felt a draft behind him from the interior wall and turned toward it. He put his hand out to trace the draft and pulled back the heavy tapestry to find a crack in the wall. He tapped the wall, and was rewarded with a hollow echo. He tapped again to confirm it. His fingers followed the crack an
d he found it ran up the wall in a near uniform line. It was purposely cut into the wall! The crack was wide enough in spots for him to wedge his fingers in and pull it open after some effort. It slid noiselessly and the interior was black as pitch. Quink removed a torch from the wall and entered the cool darkness. There was a rounded handle of iron bolted on the other side of the door. He glanced around the sitting room and pulled the door closed behind him.
The tunnel ran in two directions. Beyond the light of the torch, the tunnel was black. He took a few steps in each direction to convince him that the tunnel continued and was not merely a closet. He chose to move left toward the throne room. The floor was dirty but had been disturbed in some recent time. Who used it last had left no clue to their identity. Lockwell would know of the tunnels, Quink was sure. His trust of the wizard did not increase.
Rats scurried out of his light but sounds were muffled in the tunnel. He heard no sounds from the other side of the stone. He noticed various small shutters about five feet off the floor and a half-foot in size. He turned the tiny knob, swung one open, and peered into the room beyond. He could see every corner of the room despite some sort of fabric cover over the spy hole.
It was a waiting room for servants prior to being called by the steward. Two maids were whispering and Quink could not catch all the words. He watched them for a while but no one else came into the room. He closed the shutter and continued down the tunnel.
Some of the tunnels were dead-ends filled with boxes and debris, but others wound throughout the castle and he found himself looking through a shutter at his own room. Despite the fact that it was very dusty in that area he felt betrayed that someone could watch him in his room. Then as he thought about the amount of dust, he became miffed that no one thought him important enough to watch. The dust had been there for years.
He found an antechamber next to the throne room, where the king's servants would wait for the king's commands. He closed the spy hole, as he thought of them, and moved on.
The next spy hole was to the throne room itself. He stifled a chuckle when he noticed someone sitting on the throne. It was Edward and he was alone. He was talking however, and Quink turned his good ear to the spy hole. The words were soft, but he could make out most of them.
The Ghost Of Eslenda (Book 1) Page 11
