The Tower of Daelfaun (The Tales of Zanoth Book 1)

by Ethridge, Aaron J.

“And I can't see yours!”

  For perhaps a minute the fairies chatted amongst themselves each assuring the others one-by-one that their magical auras were, for the moment, completely invisible. Finally Galfin raised his hands, once again bringing silence to the little glen.

  “The veil has a good bit of range,” the tiny lord explained. “It will conceal you, along with any nearby companions, from any spell or ability that detects magic.”

  “Thank you!” the young man replied.

  “You're most welcome,” Galfin smiled. “And now, if I may, I'd like to meet the rest of your companions.”

  Immediately Paul introduced each of them to the fairy king. The throng surrounded the party, cheering them and saluting them each in one way or the other.

  “If any of you would like to kiss me,” Darek said with a smile. “Don't hold back.”

  To Paul's surprise, each and every one of the female fairies, with the exception of Nyssa, took him up on this offer.

  “And perhaps once more,” Darek suggested.

  Once again, to the young man's utter amazement, the fairies kissed his companion, the air filled with joyous laughter.

  “And now,” the king said, raising his hands. “I have some news that may interest you. It seems the fall of the daughter of darkness is imminent.”

  “What do you mean?” Paul asked.

  “Lord Telraen has denounced his adopted daughter Myra Kel Marran as a traitor,” Galfin explained with a smile. “He intends to destroy her phylactery and then burn her at the stake this very evening.”

  “We have to save her!” the young man exclaimed.

  “I agree!” Alena nodded.

  “You want to save the daughter of...” the fairy king began, a confused look on his face.

  “She's not what you think,” the ogress explained. “And I owe her my life.”

  “We do too,” Darek admitted, pointing back and forth from himself to Paul. “But I honestly think we'd better just let nature take its course.”

  “You don't have to come!” the young man snapped.

  “Oh no!” Darek replied shaking his head, “If you're going to save her I'm coming with you. I owe both of you my life. But that doesn't mean I don't have the right to an opinion. And my opinion is: let the lich burn.”

  “Where is the execution taking place?” Sarrac asked.

  “Kafmara,” Galfin replied.

  “We'll never be able to make it in time,” the ogre asserted.

  “You can,” the king said. “If you're certain you want to.”

  “We are!” Paul replied vehemently.

  “Agreed,” Sarrac said. “Galfin, we're no longer certain that Myra is the daughter of darkness. And we're basically positive that if it hadn't been for her, Paul would be dead now.”

  “In that case,” the fairy lord replied. “I'll send you to the outskirts of Kafmara myself.”

  “One thing,” Alena said. “Even if by some miracle we can reach and rescue her we'll never get out alive. I mean, obviously we still have to try, but...”

  “I can also help you there,” the king interrupted. “Daughter, go take one berry for yourself and each of your companions including the lich.”

  Instantly Nyssa flew into the surrounding woodlands.

  “The berries she's gone to get are tied to our world,” Galfin explained. “If you eat one in Zanoth, you'll be instantly drawn to the nearest fairy well.”

  “Yep,” the ogress nodded. “That'll do it.”

  “I sincerely hope so,” the king laughed.

  Moments later Nyssa reappeared, a small brown bag filled with tiny blue berries in her hands. As soon as she returned, the fairy king and his kin all bid the companions farewell. This done the little lord intoned words of ancient arcane power. The land of Falmarrin suddenly vanished and the band found themselves standing in a circle of mushrooms growing in a meadow atop a hill looking down on a vast city.

  Chapter 10: A Hot Stake

  “Why execute her here?” Paul asked as the companions strode down the grass covered field, heading for the road. “I'd have figured they'd have just done it at the tower.”

  “They like to perform their executions in front of the living,” Sarrac explained. “It's degrading to the undead victim and the people enjoy it, so it reduces unrest.”

  “I guess I can see that,” the young man admitted. “How many people live here?”

  “Thousands,” Darek replied. “It's actually Lord Telraen's capital. The tower is his fortress, but this is really where his power base is.”

  “So what's the plan?” Paul asked.

  “Well...” Alena began thoughtfully. “They'll certainly burn her in the town square. In fact, they're probably already making preparations, so we may want to start by checking that out. Most of the guards will be undead...”

  “But not all of them,” Darek interjected. “Far too many of the living are willing to lick the boots of their undead masters to keep from getting kicked in the face.”

  “True,” the ogress agreed. “But we can still be sure that most of the guards will be undead. Paul's ability to turn should really shock them.”

  “Kill them, let's hope,” Darek laughed. “But I think it would be a good idea to create a bit of a distraction.”

  “Like what?”

  “A fire's always good.”

  “We want to distract people,” Sarrac said. “Not kill them.”

  “So we catch the undead barracks on fire,” he replied. “They'll be almost empty and if we end up burning a few of them alive, so much the better.”

  “I can certainly see some merit in that plan,” the ogress nodded. “But we might want some help executing it. We'll want to start the blaze in more than one place at the same time, and we'll also want to stick together as much as possible.”

  “Well I've got friends,” Darek nodded knowingly.

  “It's been a long night,” Sarrac said, gazing intently at the young man.

  “Night can't last forever,” he replied.

  “The sun has yet to rise,” the ogress answered.

  “Nor will it, 'til warriors bring the dawn,” Darek smiled.

  “I thought so,” Sarrac chuckled.

  “What is it?” Paul asked.

  “He's a Warrior of Dawn,” the ogress explained.

  “Why didn't you just tell each other that when you first met?”

  “That's a good way to get people killed,” Darek replied. “In order to survive here, at least when you're not wandering around in the wilderness, you have to know how to keep your mouth shut. And in the spirit of that, we need to start shutting up right now. Remember, we're just in town to relax for the day and enjoy the execution. Oh, and Nyssa, you're gonna have to stay invisible.”

  “Not a problem,” she smiled before vanishing from sight.

  The four visible companions, along with their invisible ally, made their way toward the sprawling city that filled the valley below. The metropolis was surrounded by a wall of gray stone perhaps fifteen feet high that had a parapet running along the top, upon which undead marched tirelessly back and forth, halberds in their rotting hands.

  As they drew nearer, more and more people filled the road, all of them heading into the city. It was bizarre to see crowds of the living jostling along through the open gateway, on the sides of which several ghouls stood guard. The young man found it remarkable that people could become accustomed to a situation so completely and totally against the laws of nature, but here was proof that they were quite capable of it. It was with a certain sense of abhorrence that the young man made his way to the gate, his eyes locked on the monsters at its sides. However, the undead guardians didn't even shift their gaze as he and his allies passed through the portal.

  On the far side of the passage the young man beheld what he felt looked very much like a medieval European city. Every inch of ground was covered by buildings, many of which were multiple stories high, and wide paved streets. Crowds of people moved along o
ne way or the other, filling the place with a sense of life and energy.

  Darek took the lead as soon as they were within the town walls, guiding the party down one street after another and moving ever closer to the middle of the metropolis. Minutes later they emerged in the city square. There, at its very center stood a large wooden beam, at the foot of which was a small platform with three steps leading up to it, and around which an unlit fire had been neatly built.

  A wide red ribbon had been strung along a number of iron posts sticking up from the pavement around the location, marking out exactly how near the crowd was allowed to approach. Although only a handful of guards were currently keeping watch, there were certain to be many more when the execution was taking place. It was clear that in order to reach Myra they might have to fight their way through a crowd before taking on the soldiers. All things considered they decided to show up hours in advance, if possible, so they could get front row seats, as Paul put it.

  Having completed their reconnoiter, Darek led the band to a nearby pub. A wooden sign with the words The Tottering Tankard was hanging above the door, and the open windows revealed a large number of patrons within. The young man stepped confidently in, his companions at his heals, and scanned the crowd.

  “Susan,” he cried, his eyes on a pretty little bar maid. “I'd like a private room.”

  “Darek,” she replied, a touch of surprise in her voice, as she dropped the mug in her hand to the floor.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked.

  “Of course!” she exclaimed. “I'm just a little surprised to see you, that's all. Take your usual room. It's empty.”

  “Sure thing,” he smiled. “And tell Gregory I'm here.”

  “I certainly will,” she nodded, before stepping through a doorway at the side of the bar.

  Darek led his companions through the crowded, smoke filled room, into a hallway filled with doors at the back of the building. The first of these the young man opened, stepping into the chamber beyond. The room was small, but quite comfortable, and dominated by a table in its very center around which eight chairs sat. The walls were covered with dark red cloth intended, no doubt, to muffle any sounds that might emanate from the compartment.

  “Take a seat,” he said with a smile, “we won't have to wait long.”

  Darek's prediction was quite correct and within five minutes a tall, muscular, bald-headed man with bright blue eyes stepped into the room.

  “Gregory,” Darek said, rising to his feet and taking the man by the hand. “It's good to see you.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” the man replied.

  Before he had even finished speaking the curtain at the back of the room was pushed back and two large men bearing loaded crossbows stepped into the chamber through a hidden door. They pointed their weapons at the party members, warning them not to move as Gregory turned and locked the door behind him.

  “Now Darek,” he sighed. “What's your game?”

  “My game?” he replied. “Of the two of us I think you're the one with the explaining to do!”

  “Look,” Gregory said, pulling out a chair and taking a seat at the table. “We know you were arrested weeks ago for killing a lieutenant. And we know you were taken to the tower. So, there's no point in lying about it.”

  “Who's lying?” Darek replied. “You haven't even given me a chance to speak.”

  “You don't need to,” Gregory nodded. “You were taken to the tower only to show up weeks later just wandering around Kafmara. There's only one way that's possible. You've sold us out!”

  He raised his voice and became visibly more agitated as he spoke.

  “I've got to admit,” he said with a sigh. “I never expected it. What did they offer you? Or was it just your life for ours?”

  “He hasn't made any deal with the undead,” Alena said, her jaw muscles tense. “He escaped.”

  At this the three men laughed.

  “Look lady,” he smiled. “I don't know what your part is in all this, maybe you're just an innocent dupe, but no one escapes the Tower of Daelfaun.”

  “That's just what I thought,” Darek agreed. “But we had inside help.”

  “Give me a break, man,” Gregory nodded. “Do you really think I'm that stupid? You know me better than that.”

  “And you've known me all my life,” he retorted. “Do you really think I'd betray you?”

  “Alright,” the man replied, crossing his arms. “Tell me how you escaped then.”

  “I was just sitting in my cell,” Darek began, “enjoying the rather excellent food the lord provides his prisoners.”

  “Sounds like you so far,” Gregory interjected.

  “Agreed,” he nodded. “When Paul Stevens here just sort of popped into the room.”

  “Capture stone,” one of the crossbow wielding men suggested.

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “So Paul starts trying to find a way out, in spite of the fact that I explained it was impossible.”

  “Which it is,” the other crossbow wielder nodded.

  “Right,” Darek replied. “Around eleven or twelve I convinced Paul to go to sleep and a few hours later someone comes to the door.”

  “And who was that?” Gregory asked.

  “None other than Myra Kel Marran herself.”

  “You could at least try to make it believable, Darek.”

  “Honestly!” he exclaimed. “She wanted to spring Paul and he wouldn't go without me.”

  “And why would she do that?”

  “Well... It turns out he's the it.”

  At this statement all three men burst out laughing.

  “Darek, do you seriously expect us to believe that this guy is...”

  “Well he is!” Nyssa snapped, appearing just inches from the man's face. “And Myra did help them escape! Why do you think she's being executed for treason you genius?!?! Now are you going to help us or not?!?!”

  “If they're with a fairy, we can trust 'em,” one of the men said, lowering his crossbow.

  “And you have to admit, Greg,” the other added, also lowering his weapon, “it's really weird she's being burned.”

  “Alright...” Gregory replied slowly. “The testimony of a fairy goes a long way with me...”

  “Thank you!” she interjected.

  “And the execution does strike me as odd,” he admitted. “However, this could all be some kind of trap.”

  “It could be,” Paul replied. “But if it is, Myra's not part of it and we have to try to save her.”

  “Save her!” the man said shaking his head. “That's what you're wanting help with? Are you insane?”

  “I know it sounds crazy,” Sarrac replied. “But the simple fact is that Myra Kel Marran is not what she seems to be and she deserves our help.”

  “Look, even if I wanted to...” Gregory began.

  “We're not asking you to save her, Greg,” Darek interrupted.

  “Then what are you asking for?”

  “We need a distraction.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well,” Darek replied with a smile. “We were thinking it'd be a good night to set the undead barracks on fire.”

  “Hmmm...” Gregory hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, I can see that. And it's been months since we've been able to strike a blow against our glorious masters. So, I guess we're in.”

  “Perfect! Also, do you think you could get some men in the square?”

  “Maybe,” Gregory replied. “Why?”

  “There are going to be a lot of guards,” Darek replied. “We plan to kill as many as we can during the rescue. If you could have a few hard hitting lads in the area we might be able to do some real damage.”

  “I'll see what I can do,” he replied. “But this has got to be a completely voluntary thing. I'm not going to push anyone into getting themselves thrown to the ghouls over Myra Kel Marran.”

  “I can understand that,” Darek chuckled. “But get as many volunteers as you can. They'll be glad they
came.”

  “I hope you're right,” he sigh. “Oh, and I'll want your help preparing for the fire.”

  “Not a problem,” Darek smiled.

  Less than an hour later, Darek and Paul were dragging a two wheeled wagon filled with barrels down one of the busy streets. They had put rather raged, and very smelly, clothes over their other attire and were doing their very best to look like meaningless peasants.

  “Alright,” Paul said, tugging at the rope across his chest. “Why are we doing this again?”

  “We're helping Greg with the fire part of the plan.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “I don't get how me and you pulling a cart of barrels around town is going to help with that.”

  “First off, most of them are filled with rags covered with pitch,” Darek explained. “Second, one of them is just filled with pitch.”

  “Right,” the young man nodded. “So we just drop a load of fire barrels off at the barracks and then wander away hoping no one decides to move them before nightfall.”

  “Would you have a little faith?”

  “I'll try, but you're not making it easy.”

  “Just wait 'till we get to the barracks, then you'll see.”

  “I hope I don't see us getting caught and tortured to death.”

  “Me too,” Darek agreed. “But fortunately for us, most ghouls ain't real bright.”

  “What about that rhyming ghast?”

  “I said most. And don't mention him for a while. I want time to forget about that before you bring him up again.”

  “I understand.”

  The pair made the rest of their short journey in relative silence, reaching their destination just minutes later.

  “Need to speak to the captain,” Darek said to one of the ghouls standing sentry duty outside the building, slurring his speech as he spoke.

  “He's busy,” the guard replied.

  “Well I was told to speak to 'im.”

  “By who?”

  “Commander Reese.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you the captain?” Darek chuckled. “No! You're not! So why don't you just go fetch him for me?”

  “Watch your mouth!” the sentry snapped, grabbing the young man by his shirt. “Before I decide to eat your face!”