by Blink, Bob
They were about to enter the building when a balding sergeant appeared. “Can I help you . . . ?” His request froze in mid sentence. He had recognized the King.
Kall smiled at the man’s bewilderment. Quickly he nodded and said. “I would like to speak with the officer in charge. I have some questions regarding the strangers that were captured a short time ago.”
The Sergeant nodded and pointed inside. He waited for Kall to pass, and then followed quickly behind. The others grinned and entered afterwards.
Kall spent more than two glass speaking with the men who had participated in the initial encounter, and those who were part of the capture the following morning. He met Olar Kalner, Fen’s father who had been instrumental in the capture. He also learned the details about the rider sent to fetch Caster Suline from the nearby village, because she had the ability to create a portal back to Nals. Near the end of the interviews, he met Army Caster Ferkle, who confirmed that his staff had been literally vaporized out of his hands. He showed the King the scars that had still only partially healed from the encounter. Everything he heard was consistent with what Lyes had reported.
When he had learned all he thought he could, Kall asked Fen’s father to escort him to the commons where the men had appeared. Olar did, stopping by to pick up Garss, Fen’s young companion the day the strangers had first appeared. Garss was almost speechless at first when he discovered the King of Sedfair was there to speak with him personally, but once he overcame his initial shock, he couldn’t be restrained. He took them around, showing the spot in the commons where he and Fen had been, and exactly where the strangers had arrived. They walked up the street following the path taken by the outsiders, where Kall saw the inn, complete with the blocking glyphs still painted on the walls. By the time mid day had long passed, he was convinced that something unique had taken place.
When they were finished and had returned to the barracks, Kall explained what he wished all of them to do. Then, signaling Lyes, he waited until the Doorway back to Nals was created.
“It’s all true then?” Queen Rosul asked her consort when they were finally alone that night.
“Everything that Lyes was told checks out,” Kall agreed as he lay in bed with Rosul snuggled up against him, her head on his chest. “Many of the townspeople saw part of the altercation take place, and the stories generally agree. Major Kalner, who is the father of the apprentice that leaked the story to Lyes, was one of those who were in charge of transporting the four prisoners to the Guild here in Nals. The fact that Fen, who was scheduled to come later in the summer, is now here early, is somewhat telling. Fen’s best friend, a boy named Garss, showed us where the strangers first appeared. We walked up to the inn where they stopped for a meal. It still has the blocking glyphs painted on the interior walls. An Army Caster named Ferkle still has scars healing on his hands which he claims is the result of having his staff burned from existence while he held it.”
“So we have apparent strangers, wearing odd clothing and unable to speak the language suddenly appear in a border village. From what you said earlier, they appeared more lost than hostile, and when they couldn’t communicate with the two boys, they headed into the village. Not the actions one would have expected from a group planning trouble. They seek out an inn, have dinner, and are confronted by the village guard. I wish we had that gold coin they used to pay with. You say several people claimed to have held it in their hand and examined it?”
“That’s correct. The coin was unfortunately taken by one of Carif’s Casters, the one who resides in the adjacent village. The description was clear. It was a third again as large as our standard gold, and had marking that no one has seen before. The lettering could not be read. But it tested to be real, so they made allowances based on weight.”
“Everything points to their being outsiders, and given where they appeared it makes one wonder if they came out of the Wastelands. That is the first remarkable part of this. We have long believed only the Baldari were out there. This suggests otherwise.”
“Don’t forget they practice the kind of inherent magic that isn’t known here.”
“That is the second thing that stands out. Not only can they perform such magic, but they do so with great skill and power. The only Casters I suspect can burn a power staff from existence would be Carif and a couple of her senior Casters. Yet one of the strangers did so with apparent ease, without requiring a staff of his own. These people are far beyond our own in capability.”
“Do you think that is why Carif has them locked away?” Kall asked softly. “She has to be aware of what they did. That tells her that another form of magic exists, and she would want to contain that information at a minimum, and learn how to exploit it for herself if possible.”
“I worry that she might make the leap to wonder about such abilities existing in Sedfair. We need to warn those at the island. It should be secure, but they should be prepared against possible discovery.”
“Lyes went there tonight,” Kall said. “I told him they needed to be aware of recent developments.”
“Was that wise?” Rosul asked. “Fortunately, Lyes can mask his Doorway, so no one can detect the far end, but do we want them to know so much traveling is going on?”
“He made a Doorway back here for the three of us that returned, then made a Doorway to the island from Slipi. No one there has the ability to detect such things, and by the time anyone here discovers we were there, all trace will have faded. When he is finished, he will return to Nals from there. His path will be impossible to trace.”
“Lyes needs to be very careful and very alert. As soon as I confront Carif, she is going to be aware that someone talked. She will have her people investigate and will learn, among others events, that you were in Slipi. That means she will know that someone made a Doorway. Such people are rare, and if she can’t find a candidate among her own, she is going to realize we have access to someone with the capability. That will not make her happy.”
“Lyes is the only one on our team who can do so,” Kall reminded her.
“And he is right under her nose. She might discover he has been seen with Fen, and become suspicious. Maybe we should cut our losses and have Lyes leave now?”
“We have a lot invested in Lyes,” Kall said slowly. “But I see what you mean. Unfortunately, that will link Lyes with us, and start Carif looking towards us. That’s why you decided not to go forward with talking to Fen yourself, isn’t it? It’s too bad we can’t get her thinking along a different path.”
“Carif is going to speak with him, of that I’m certain. There is no way a boy of that age would be able to hide the fact we had spoken with him. I doubt that he will be able to hide the fact he talked with Lyes. While there were any number of soldiers from Slipi who could have talked, there is no credible way we would have stumbled onto them this quickly.”
“What should we do?” Kall asked.
“I hate to say it, but you need to meet with Lyes when he returns. I want him safe before I confront Carif. Send him back to the island and start making plans for the backup site. Having him there will get him away from Carif, and provide a means of escape for our people if needed.”
Reluctantly Kall pushed back the covers and slid out of bed. “This might take the rest of the night,” he said sadly.
Chapter 41
The agreement they had made with one another was simple, and in the end probably meaningless. They all realized it, but there was little else they could do. Orna had never been returned, and they had to assume the worst. Whatever they had done to her, the Reading, whatever that involved, had killed her. The words from the guard who had commented on it said as much. Rigo was beside himself with the loss of one of his team. He was the leader, and he should have been able to prevent it from happening. At the very least, they should have taken him instead. Like Ash’urn and Lorl, he knew their agreement to fight off any attempt to take another was destined to end in failure. Realistically, what could three unarmed
men hope to accomplish against any number of strong, well armed, professionals? Rigo’s primary hope was that whenever they came, whomever they came for, he would be the one they ended up taking. He could speak to some degree, so perhaps he could talk to whoever they would take him to. Perhaps there was a way to end this.
Ash’urn said little about Orna’s loss, but Rigo could tell that the death of the small woman weighed on the scholar. Lorl, normally self-centered and unconcerned about others, was uncommonly vocal about the situation. More of a bond than Rigo had realized had formed between Lorl and Orna. She had, after all, saved his hide that day in the Ruins when Lorl had been distracted while an unseen Hoplani charged down on him. She hadn’t had the staff that day, but had jumped out at the beasts and swatted it with her sword, causing enough of a distraction that Lorl had had time to recover. They became more serious about looking for any possible means of escape, although the cell here was as escape-proof as any Rigo had seen. The most significant problem was the blocking of their magic. All of them had come to rely on the powers they could command at will, and being without was difficult to accept. Even Ash’urn had tried his spoken magic, finding it no more available than the magic of the two wizards.
When the guards came, they really had no chance. They had obviously anticipated some form of resistance, and when the evening meal arrived, it came with a dozen of the armed soldiers, each with a knife already drawn. Before the three men could react they found themselves with knives to their throats and a couple of the burly guards restraining them.
“That one,” the leader of the group said, pointing at Rigo.
Rigo felt a small ripple of fear, despite his previous resolution to be the one to be taken. He felt he had the best chance to change the situation, but he couldn’t deny that there was a very real probability that he would soon share Orna’s fate.
“Let him go,” Lorl shouted, struggling despite the knife to his own throat, his words having no effect on the guards, both because they were uninterested in his objections and because they couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“It’ll be okay,” Rigo said to Lorl. “I’ll be back. I can speak the language, so maybe I can work something out. I’ll see you in a glass or so.”
He tried to sound positive, but Rigo wasn’t anywhere near as confident as he tried to sound. He glanced at Ash’urn, now pale and frightened. He nodded as the three men dragged him from the cell room.
“Fight them Rigo,” Lorl called after him. “Don’t let them . .”
Rigo never heard what he was supposed to not let them do when the thick door to the room was closed behind him. Outside the room for the first time in days, Rigo tried to reach for his magic. The room had been lined with the symbols that isolated him and perhaps he could access just enough to try and do something about the bands he wore. Unfortunately, whoever had designed the bands knew what he was doing. The metal straps were effective enough all alone to prevent him from drawing even a trickle of power. The simplest of his spells were denied him. He wouldn’t be escaping that way. He also had learned from simple experimentation that the strange metal used in the devices was resistant to tampering by most normal means. He doubted even a blacksmith could remove them.
The guards shoved him down the hallway to the ramp that lead upwards. One of the guards walked ahead, and one on either side of him. Rigo wondered if torture was planned and how well he would be able to resist. He’d never been particularly impassive about pain, and most of his life hadn’t needed to be. He had information that shouldn’t be released to these people, and he hoped he would be able to hold it secret. If they learned that he knew something of value, he feared they might dig it out of him. Perhaps this Reading thing, whatever it involved, might be able to detect the very items he most wished to conceal. Unlike Orna, he spoke the language, so they might be able to learn secrets she wouldn’t have been able to reveal even had she wished to. Briefly he thought what Orna might have endured, wanting to talk, but unable to communicate and thereby relieve her suffering.
As they walked down a long hallway on an upper floor, Rigo demonstrated his command of the local language. He made a particularly insulting remark about the mothers of the three men escorting him. He hoped he might make them angry and that might offer him some opportunity. The three men ignored him as if he hadn’t spoken. It was probably just as well, Rigo decided. Even if he gained a momentary advantage, there was nowhere to go, and if he hoped to help Ash’urn and Lorl he needed to find someone in authority to speak with. He hoped to be afforded that opportunity.
The passageway up here was very ornate, and while the decor was simple, Rigo could tell that it represented a significant effort. They turned a corner halfway down the hallway, and then made straight for a door at the end of the short hallway in which they found themselves. The lead guard opened the door and stepped inside. Rigo was pushed through and forced to sit at one of two chairs on either side of a medium sized oval table. There was food and water on the table, and Rigo wasn’t certain if he was allowed to sample it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, although he could think of no reason it would be poisoned or drugged. They could do that to him without subterfuge if they wished it. In the end, he simply sat and waited, the three guards calmly waiting behind him, their backs against the wall as they blocked any exit from this side of the room.
Rigo examined the room while he waited. Opposite the door through which he’d entered was a second door. It was closed at the moment so he had no idea what might be on the far side. Off to his right was an open archway into a second room. In that room he could see a narrow horizontal table equipped with leather straps. There was little doubt the straps were meant to secure someone, like himself, to the table for some kind of procedure. The Reading? Rigo had no idea and he couldn’t see enough of the room to have any idea what else might be in there. Rigo couldn’t help the crawling feeling that inched its way across his skin.
He was left to worry about what awaited him for nearly a quarter glass. Then the door on the far side of the table opened and an older woman stepped into the room. He was a little surprised by her age, but she showed no signs of infirmity. She stood tall and proud. Had he any doubts that this was who they were waiting for, they would have been dispelled by the manner in which the three guards came silently to attention. Rigo already knew that women were generally in charge here, and so he examined the woman carefully as she stepped toward the table. The clothes she wore were simple, yet looked to be expensive. At least they would have been back home. She carried herself with confidence, and it was obvious that she was used to being in control. This one was one of their leaders, of that he was certain. Well, he’d wanted to be given the opportunity to make his case to someone in authority. It appeared he was being granted his wish.
After the woman sat, she examined him carefully. She hadn’t brought anything with her. She had no paper for notes, and no list of questions. She would remember what he said without such simple aids. Rigo didn’t like her eyes. They were gray and cold looking. She examined him analytically, and he could tell she cared little what happened to him. She was here for something she wanted, and she would go after it by whatever means she felt would be most expedient.
“I am Carif,” she said suddenly. “I am in charge here. I’m told you speak our language.” Her voice was crisp and clear, and she enunciated clearly. Rigo wondered if that was to make it easy for him to understand, or whether she always spoke thus.
Rigo had decided not to pretend. The guards would have told her he could speak to a limited degree, and his best chance of finding an answer to their dilemma, and perhaps save Ash’urn and Lorl unnecessary pain was to see what this woman wanted.
“I can understand some of it, yes,” Rigo admitted, attempting to speak as clearly as possible. Some of the words were still awkward in his mouth, the sounds very different than those required back home.
The woman listened to his answer, paying attention to his accent.
“If
you are not from Sedfair as everyone believes, how did you learn our language?”
Sedfair. Somehow he’d known that without realizing it. I don’t know,” he answered slowly.
“Come now,” she admonished him sharply. “If you aren’t going to cooperate on simple matters, how are we to get anywhere?”
She looked sincere and concerned, but Rigo could sense the hardness in her and see the distrust in her eyes.
“It’s the truth,” Rigo answered. “Over the last few days while we have been locked in the room, I’ve somehow gradually learned to speak and understand the words. I cannot explain how.”
“Are you skilled with languages and have you demonstrated an ability to pick them up in the past?”
“Quite the contrary, actually. I’ve never been one to learn even related dialects easily.”
“And you would have me believe you have no explanation for your ability?”
Rigo shrugged. He had no intention of sharing his suspicion that he had originally come from Sedfair. That would require a long and complicated explanation that would not only sound false, but which would require him to reveal many things he wished to keep secret.
The woman named Carif eyed him for a moment, then changed her line of questioning.
“Where are you from, and why are you here?” Carif asked pointedly.
The questions were ones that Rigo expected, but he was surprised to sense a hint of worry about her questions as to why he was here. She’s worried about us, Rigo realized. Why would four simple explorers bother her so?
“We come from a land beyond the Ruins,” he replied. He couldn’t see how that information would help her any, and she had to expect it already seeing they’d captured Orna and Ash’urn in the oasis.
“The Ruins? Oh, you mean the Wastelands. Yes, we already have assumed that much. We find that somewhat surprising, as we’ve always believed the Wastelands to be uncrossable.”
