“I know,” Ja’tar injected sympathetically.
“But —”
“If we are facing a new more powerful foe, we must let everyone know and we need to plan,” Ja’tar said forcefully, his eyes lighting up.
“Maybe we should wait. You know … until we know more? Now might not be the right time.”
“Now is the perfect time, everyone already knows the watcher is gone. Rumors travel fast. They will already be expecting me to say a few words on his behalf.”
Zedd’aki sighed, “It may make things … difficult.”
“Possibly,” Ja’tar said, raising a brow.
“You will be watched more closely. They will be on guard, looking to you to lead. It will make your plan to open the Cave more… difficult,” Zedd’aki whispered, leaning in to within inches of Ja’tar’s ear.
“We will have to deal with that. If we don’t tell them a truth, they will be suspect of all as things unwind. In good conscience, I cannot keep them totally in the dark. Their lives could be endangered.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Zedd’aki grunted as he yanked his beard, “but I still don’t care for it one bit.”
Ja’tar felt a headache coming on and rubbed his temples. “Neither do I my friend, it leaves too much to chance.”
“You realize, don’t you, that there will be no agreement tonight on whether or not to hold a Closing!” Zedd’aki frowned, running both of his hands through his hair in angst, and shaking his head.
Ja’tar nodded bitterly as he sat down stiffly at the Grand Table. His face mirrored how he felt, tired of all the petty gamesmanship and grandstanding. He traced simple runes on the table with the remaining ash. “Politics —!”
Zedd’aki motioned toward the door and started walking. “We have no time for politics.”
“With Guild business there is always politics,” Ja’tar agreed. He stood, swept the ash to the floor and followed his friend out of the library.
“Now that’s the truth,” said Zedd’aki, grinning as they started the long trek up the stairs.
The elemental ground and morphed itself back into a solid stone wall once they left the immediate area.
“We may be required to … how should I say this — circumvent the process to get things done. I suppose I could force the issue,” Ja’tar suggested, pausing for a brief rest.
Zedd’aki was surprised at his friend’s newfound courage. “Consensus may be wiser ….”
“I have the right,” said Ja’tar arrogantly, as the corner of his mouth twitched. He was feeling the need to act quickly.
“But it may be wiser to have everyone enlightened to see things your way.” Zedd’aki slowly resumed his climb.
“It’s my right …,” Ja’tar said, refusing to budge, and letting his friend get several steps ahead.
Ja’tar cleared his throat rather loudly, causing Zedd’aki to stop.
Ja’tar’s eyes flared as he spoke, “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, yes! You have the right, but if you force the issue …,” Zedd’aki said, raising a waving hand, his voice faltering a little, “you catch more flies with honey than …”
“I suppose if I invoke station, I might trigger some resentment.” Said Ja’tar sheepishly, as he walked up the stairs to where Zedd’aki was waiting.
Zedd’aki had a way of making him feel reckless at the most inopportune times. They made a good pair, the two of them, one overly cautious, the other, a bit reckless.
“To get a Closing through the council, you’re going to need all the votes you can.” Zedd’aki looked up the colossal spiral staircase, looking for the halfling. Zedd’aki didn’t want their conversation to be overheard. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Maybe there is another way …,” maneuvered Ja’tar, not being one to let anything get in his way, especially when he knew he was right.
Zedd’aki picked up on his tone and knew trouble was coming. “Another way? How?”
“There are ways —” Ja’tar said, leaning forward, furling his brow. “The Ten provided provisions for crisis that allow the Keeper some degree of — let’s just say … latitude.”
Zedd’aki was barely able to believe what he had just heard suggested. “Go behind their backs? You can’t be serious?”
“No, but —” Ja’tar waved his hands and slowly shrugged his shoulders.
Zedd’aki paused at the top of the stairs where they exited to the main floor of the Keep. He didn’t like where his friend was going with this plan. “You know that this could cause division in the Keep.”
“We already have division. The Brethren are the extremists, but Dra’kor and his gang are the worst. He has already built an impressive following. He fights me at every step.”
“Dra’kor!” Zedd’aki said in disgust as he wiped his hand across the railing, gathering a small pile of dust, which he flicked to the floor, brushing his hands clean on his robe. “Can we handle the Brethren?”
Ja’tar pondered the question for a minute, and replied. “They want to dissolve the Guild. They can be manipulated if necessary.”
“I don’t care for the Guild myself, although I think that openly defying them is tantamount to suicide. They are too aloof for my liking, but Dra’kor … he’s dangerous.”
“He influences many … he has some extreme opinions that sit well with many of the younger mages. I think he wants to relearn the old ways.” Ja’tar speculated, rubbing his chin. “I think that most of it comes from his upbringing.”
“That was eight-hundred years ago when —”
“He’s a royal you know. The second son to a King. He was raised a royal. I doubt that you ever lose that … his father was, well, let’s just say he was difficult.”
“Our Dra’kor? Huh —!”
“Dra’kor’s problem is that he has ideas about his self-worth that are delusional. He was raised in a manner where he became accustomed to being treated special — without earning it.”
“He’s an idiot!” Zedd’aki said, spitting at the ground. “Old ways? He just wants power.”
“Agreed, but … just because he doesn’t see eye-to-eye with the current Keep philosophy of quiet oversight, doesn’t mean his thoughts have no merit. He wants us to be more involved … with this I agree,” explained Ja’tar before he caught himself.
Zedd’aki was surprised at his admission.
Ja’tar looked around, “If we are to continue this conversation, we should take it out of the hall, just in case.”
Zedd’aki turned red and nodded, heading for their favorite place near the fireplace in the small sitting room, which was located opposite the main dining room, with the kitchen nestled in between. Zedd’aki and Ja’tar were about the only wizards who used the small room. That made it an ideal place for conversation, secluded, thick stone walls, private and cozy. Ja’tar followed closely on his heels as he opened the thick oak door and stepped inside. He almost immediately felt the warmth of the fire in the stone hearth. He walked over and tossed another birch log on before he sought out a place to sit.
Ja’tar sat down on the benches along the one long pine table. “Now what were you saying?”
“Ah yes, Dra’kor! Bah! He longs for the glory days when magi ruled. He wants the commoners to bow to him. He wants to —” Zedd’aki stormed on, bowing to an imaginary mage.
“Enough. We all know what he wants.” Ja’tar grinned widely as he interrupted with a wave of his hand. “Bear in mind Zedd’aki, he’s old enough to remember how the locals used to treat members of the Keep, but not old enough to recall the reasons of why we decided to become more … reclusive.”
Zedd’aki growled, “He’s a power monger!”
“I doubt it! I believe his heart is actually in the right spot. At least he is predictable. His motives are … totally transparent. Most importantly, he believes he is right.”
Zedd’aki blurted out, “that’s what makes him very dangerous.”
“What? Believing he’s right?”
“You kn
ow what I mean … nothing quite as dangerous as a man who believes that he knows everything,” Zedd’aki nodded grumbling.
Ja’tar caught the double-entendres, but ignored it, poked a crooked finger into Zedd’aki’s chest, “Aye, nor as vulnerable.”
“True,” admitted Zedd’aki as he pushed Ja’tar’s finger away.
“Would you rather have to deal with someone you can’t read?”
“No, but by the Ten, he’s got the tongue of the Dark Lord himself.” Zedd’aki confessed as he yanked hard on his long white beard.
Ja’tar snorted, “He is quite a bard when it comes to spinning a yarn.”
“I tire of all of his whining … and the drama. All he ever does is criticize people. He never has anything constructive to add to a conversation. He never has solutions.”
“I think it’s because of his rebellious youth,” chortled Ja’tar. “We were once like him.”
Zedd’aki snorted, “Ha! We were never that annoying!”
Ja’tar gave Zedd’aki an dumbfounded look.
“We weren’t,” Zedd’aki insisted, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
“Perhaps the way he acts suites his purpose. He stirs the pot, see what happens. Still, he’s a good speaker.”
Zedd’aki grabbed, yanked and twisted an imaginary foe. “Has a way with the words he does; twists them. He reaches down in your gut and gets you with those unsaid thoughts; emotional half-truths that don’t register as wrong.”
“I agree, Zedd’aki. They always seem to sound quite plausible … until closer examination.”
Ja’tar watched as Gretta waddled over nodding to Zedd’aki who looked over his shoulder and immediately hushed.
“Hello boys!” Gretta said, cheerfully. “Can I get you gents anything?”
“G’day Gretta,” Zedd’aki responded. “We sure could use a couple mugs of mead if you have some chilled, and a plate of your sausages.”
“I’ll get ‘em in a minute,” Gretta nodded and set a hand on Ja’tar’s shoulder, “Sorry to hear about Tar’ac. He was a nice gent …”
“He was …,” echoed Ja’tar, setting his hand on hers.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“No thank you, Gretta. I think that will do,” said Zedd’aki. “Wait, maybe a couple small rolls to go with the sausage.”
Gretta smiled brightly and turned to go. The two magi watched as she walked through the big door into the kitchen.
Ja’tar stared blankly. “Now where were we?”
“He’s still an idiot,” Zedd’aki said, not missing a note.
Ja’tar shook his head and grinned widely.
Zedd’aki scowled. “What …?”
“Nothing. You were saying?”
“I … I … damn! I lost track of my thoughts,” Zedd’aki said, red-faced as his lips quivered.
Ja’tar nodded as Gretta returned with the mugs, rolls and sizzling sausages. Ja’tar’s mouth watered and he realized he had not had breakfast yet.
Ja’tar thanked her and stabbed one of the big links with a fork. He bit it and felt the casing pop in his mouth as the succulent juices squirted out of his lips and down his chin. He wiped them away and added a torn off hunk of roll and chewed slowly, savoring the spices, thyme, rosemary, pepper, and fennel. Zedd’aki watched him stuff his face.
“You act like you haven’t eaten in a week.”
“Not since last night,” Ja’tar answered with his mouth full.
Zedd’aki joined him and for a short time, no words were shared as they almost polished off the entire heaping plate of grilled sausage and rolls.
Ja’tar shook a fork with a sausage on it at his friend. “Anyway, idiot or not, only time will tell. However, I believe that his basic problem is that he is very inexperienced and he doesn’t know the full implications of what he does or says. He is young, naive, and he is arrogant.”
“…arrogance that will someday extract a price. Do we allow others to pay for his foolishness?” Zedd’aki blurted out as he stared into space, and contemplated the cost.
Ja’tar had a small smirk on his face as he swirled the mead in his pewter mug. “Nay Zedd’aki, we do not. It would be unconscionable to let others suffer on his behalf. But … maybe we can use his arrogance to our advantage?”
Zedd’aki’s head snapped around, “What?”
“Let’s think about this. We need room to plan and maneuver, right?”
“Sure, so?”
“Eh? Maybe we can give him a quest.” Ja’tar nervously tapped on the table with his fingers, “something to keep him occupied.”
He peered deeply up into his friend’s eyes. “It has to be important enough that he feels he has the opportunity to prove his mettle. It must be convincing.”
“Aye! But not enough to get him killed,” Zedd’aki laughed and grinned mischievously, “or not…”
Silence filled the room.
Ja’tar took a couple big gulps from his mug.
“…or not” nodded Ja’tar. “Maybe he’ll take a few of his friends with him and get them out of our way too.”
Ja’tar shook his finger at Zedd’aki. “Perhaps he might learn a thing or two along the way.”
“Experience does have a way of being a very good teacher,” replied Zedd’aki, deeply chagrinned, as he raised his mug in a toast, “If you survive the lessons.”
Ja’tar tapped his mug into his friend’s mug. “Hear-hear. To surviving!”
They both smiled and took long draws from their mugs.
“Let’s hope he survives them, there are too few of us to lose another …,” Ja’tar added.
Zedd’aki harrumphed and flicked a bread scrap to the floor, “No big loss …”
“Just the same …,” Ja’tar replied as he eyed the last sausage, but Zedd’aki beat him to it causing him to scowl. Zedd’aki ignored his scowl and shoved the whole link into his mouth.
Talking with his mouth full, Zedd’aki mumbled, “Goob sausages! Doob we hab enough time to plan this out?”
“Plan?” Ja’tar guffawed. “We’ll plan later, after we know what we’re doing.”
Zedd’aki scrunched up his face and nodded, knowing the truth when he heard it. They were doomed!
Ja’tar placed his hands on his hips, trying to look incredulous, “I have no idea.”
Zedd’aki didn’t follow the question. It took him a bit before he realized that Ja’tar was trying to provoke him. He swallowed, “We really should you know!”
“You think?”
Zedd’aki shrugged, “I’m just saying … it might be better.”
Ja’tar frowned, “I have a plan ….”
Zedd’aki’s eyes got round. “Care to let me in on it?”
“Later. I need to think this through,” Ja’tar mumbled. “Let’s just say that I’ve wanted to send a team out into the realms for years. This may be the opportune time to just take a leap of faith.”
“Well, don’t take too long before you let me in on the plan,” Zedd’aki replied, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “You are going to let me in on the plan, aren’t you?
“Oh, yes, yes!” Ja’tar said, acting indignantly. “Of course I will —”
“Of course …”
Ja’tar wiped his brow, “Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll have much time up front. However, you know how these things go. They could take months, even years.”
“We don’t have years, do we?”
“No, I don’t think we do … not based on what we’ve seen. Maybe not even months —”
“What’ll we do?”
“I still need to get nine self-centered wizards back to the Keep for the Closing. That will be … difficult. I suppose we should start there.”
Ja’tar wringed his hands and brought them to his chin, elbows leaning on the table. He knew that with their numbers so small, he would have to call on travelers. He also knew that all travelers were reluctant to leave their realms, even when Guild business demanded their attention. They wo
uld drag their feet until they were forced with disciplinary action before they would make the journey home.
“There’ll probably be plenty of time for us to fully plan what needs be done.” Resignation set in to Zedd’aki’s demeanor. This was going to take some time, for he also knew the truth of the matter.
“Yes, but I can plant a few seeds and see how they grow. I don’t see that we have any other choice. I fear that we are facing far more than what is apparent,” bemoaned Ja’tar. “And now, we are blind too …”
He paused for a second considering the choices, and continued, “What would happen if we didn’t act and this … whatever it is, gets loose and starts destroying whole realms?”
Zedd’aki gawked in shock. “What? We can’t —”
“Shh!” Ja’tar stood up and paced before the oversized stone hearth. “The Guild is too small now. We wouldn’t stand a chance against a full demon uprising. We would fail!”
“Aye, most likely we would,” agreed Zedd’aki.
Ja’tar continued, “… because we are ill prepared. Our skills have grown … rusty. Besides, I’m not sure the other races would even bother to assist us, our reputation isn’t as golden as it once was …”
“I agree, that would spell the end of us.”
“We can’t let that happen,” emphasized Ja’tar.
Zedd’aki nodded his agreement. “No, we can’t. But what if this is all for naught and no crisis ensues?”
“No harm done,” Ja’tar replied. “It would —”
“No harm?” Zedd’aki raised his voice. “Are you willing to risk a fight and perhaps insurrection on conjecture?”
Ja’tar’s face turned red, “Conjecture? Conjecture?” He threw his cup against the wall, “Zedd’aki, I think I have a little more evidence that we are under attack than that. Give me some bloody credit here.”
“It’s still just a single incident,” Zedd’aki said, pointing a finger into his friend’s chest.
“How do we know that? Huh? We monitor hundreds of realms. The watcher was hundreds of years behind on his oversight visits.”
Zedd’aki’s jaw dropped, “What? You jest! Hundreds of years?”
“Quite literally; the realms of the world could be in utter chaos and we wouldn’t know unless a demon came to the front door and told us. We would have to happen upon the right place at the right time.”
The Legacy of the Ten: Book 01 - Eyes of the Keep Page 13
