The sounds of the struggle were faint as Wylan tapped the floor with his staff. He heard the distinctive sound of the metal grate and smiled grimly. He bent down and removed the grate. He removed his scarf and dropped it on the floor. As he climbed into the sewers, the sound of the struggle became amplified. He cocked his head and determined the direction that Sheela and her captor had gone. Wylan moved fearlessly after them.
Wylan moved slowly, but steadily as he probed the ground before him with his staff. After many minutes had passed by, the sounds of Sheela crying became more distant. Wylan tried to quicken his pace. Suddenly, Wylan stumbled and fell into the thin layer of water running through the sewers. When he got back up, the sounds were gone.
Wylan cursed to himself as he continued forward. He strained his ears for any slight sound that would give him a renewed direction. Water trickled everywhere, and several rats scurried nearby, but there was no sound of Sheela. Wylan stopped and thought about going back for help, but finally he shook his head and continued onward. He was not sure that he could find his way back, and there was nobody there he could ask to help him. At least he had left his scarf as a sign of where he had went, he thought.
For several long minutes, Wylan plodded along through the damp and dirty sewers. Suddenly, he slowed as he heard Sheela in the distance. The sound left as quickly as it had come, and Wylan stopped walking. He raised his staff and ran it across the walls. Slowly, he backed up several paces. Sheela’s screams came faintly from his left. He poked the wall with his staff and found an opening. Wylan slowly walked into the opening, his staff testing the ground before him.
A stairway, nodded Wylan, as he started to climb upward. The narrow stairway rose steeply, and Wylan had trouble using his staff to test the ground before him. Eventually the stairway ended, and Wylan listened intently for any sound of Sheela. Her scream was barely audible, but Wylan could determine her direction. He turned to his left and moved as swiftly as he dared.
The sewers sloped upward ever so gently as Wylan strode through the darkness. He had heard one final scream and what sounded like a slap before the sounds ended. He trudged on in near silence, his staff constantly testing the floor of the sewers in front of him. The lonely walk dragged on as minutes passed with no further sounds from Sheela. As despair set in, the sound of Wylan’s breathing overshadowed the faint sounds of the slowly moving water.
Finally, Wylan heard distant talking. His ears perked up as he tried to discern the words of the two men that were having an argument.
“Why did you bring her in here?” yelled a man’s voice. “Are you crazy? If anyone saw you with her then your use to the organization is over. You do know what that means, don’t you?”
“Nobody saw me,” retorted the voice of the man Wylan had been following.
Suddenly Wylan was able to put a face to the voice. He clenched his teeth in anger as he realized that it was Jon who had kidnapped Sheela.
“Besides,” Jon continued, “she can’t tell anyone about me if she is dead now, can she?”
“I am not worried about who she can tell,” countered the mysterious voice. “I am concerned about anyone who might have seen you.”
“There was nobody else in the hideout,” snapped Jon. “Sheri has them all off running errands for that fool boy who calls himself king. Stop worrying.”
“I have to worry,” replied the unidentified voice in a frustrated tone. “With Kendal always snooping around your hideout, you are always in risk of being exposed. That was bad enough without you entering the sewers and coming here. We have a chance to rid Tagaret of that boy king because our secret has remained undiscovered. You endanger us all.”
“Sheela was telling Bin-lu about people in the sewers,” protested Jon. “I did this to protect us.”
“Bin-lu is nobody,” argued the voice. “He is just some Lanoirian that is enamored with being around Arik. He has no position or following in Tagaret. You should have just arranged an accident for him.”
“What’s done is done,” sighed Jon. “Sheela will never tell anyone about this place now. Let’s forget about it.”
“I will not forget about it,” retorted the voice. “I am going to trap the entrance to our lair until the boy king returns to Tagaret. Do not even think about trying to come back here again.”
“Why trap it?” questioned Jon. “With Sheela dead, nobody will know where it is.”
“Because we will only get one more chance at access to the Royal Palace,” replied the voice. “I will not waste it on anyone other than Arik. Until then, the sewers will not be used. Dispose of the girl’s body far away from here, and return to your children.”
Wylan heard sounds of movement coming from the small side channel that he had been standing near. He listened as someone moved further away from him, and then he heard Jon grumble under his breath and begin moving closer. Wylan cursed his blindness as he sought some irregularity of the sewer wall to hide in. Perspiration dampened his forehead as he realized that he had to survive in order to tell someone about Jon’s traitorous actions. People had to know that Jon had murdered Sheela. In order to survive, he needed to find someplace to hide.
The sound of a distant grate slamming shut echoed through the stone tunnels. Wylan started sweating profusely as Jon’s approach became louder. He had no idea if the sewers were illuminated, or if Jon was carrying a torch. He couldn’t tell if Jon would be able to see him, and he was already too close to make noise by fleeing. Wylan held his staff tightly and waited in his own personal darkness.
Suddenly, Wylan heard a soft moan. It was a female voice, and Wylan realized that Sheela was not dead yet. Nervously, he gave up all hope of hiding in the sewers and decided to do what he could to save Sheela. He mentally pictured Jon carrying Sheela’s body and braced himself for the upcoming confrontation. Jon’s footsteps sloshed closer. Wylan waited for Jon to recognize him. He hoped that Jon would be surprised enough to make a sound and give away his position.
Wylan coiled tensely as the footsteps echoed loudly off the stone walls. Suddenly, Jon gasped and then snarled. Wylan’s staff rose swiftly to head level as he swung it hard towards the sound of Jon’s voice. He felt the impact and heard a sharp crack. Jon yelled in pain and surprise. Wylan pictured Jon staggering from the blow and jabbed viciously where he pictured Jon’s head to be. He struck the wall of the sewer instead of Jon’s head. Jon snarled, and Wylan heard something drop into the shallow water running through the sewer. He realized that Sheela’s body had been dropped, as Wylan heard a knife being pulled from a sheath. Wylan jabbed towards the snarl and felt the staff impact something less solid than the wall. The unseen object gave way before the force of the staff.
The knife clattered loudly as it fell. The sound of a large body hitting the ground followed immediately. Wylan waited silently for any further sounds. Several minutes passed by, and Wylan dropped to his hands and knees. He placed his staff next to the wall of the sewer and felt around with his hands. He felt Sheela’s body. She was still breathing. He turned her onto her back to make sure that she would not drown in the shallow water. He moved slowly forward, running his hands over the ground. He felt the knife and seized it. Crawling further forward, he found Jon’s body. Jon’s breath was shallow, but he was still alive. A tremor of fear coursed through Wylan’s body as he crawled on top of Jon. Feeling Jon’s body with his left hand, Jon plunged the knife hard into Jon’s eye. He held the knife and waited to make sure that Jon was dead.
Wylan rose and felt for the wall of the sewer. He felt the wall and then shoved the knife hard in between the rocks of the wall. He pushed hard on the knife to make sure it would not dislodge. Wylan dropped to his knees again and felt for Sheela. He lifted her body and placed it over his shoulder. With his free hand, Wylan retrieved his staff and rose. He turned and proceeded down the gentle slope of the sewer in search of the staircase he had used to come to his present location.
* * *
Garong approached the gates of K
landon. He gazed up at the banners flying over the gates and halted. He stared at the symbol of the dragon that he had last seen on Arik’s chest. Confusion clouded his mind as he walked up to the gates. The guards stared at the elf walking up to the gates and positioned themselves in the center of the open space. Garong stopped in front of the guards.
“I have come to speak with the king of Klandon,” Garong stated.
The guards whispered between themselves, and then one of them turned and ran off.
“You are an elf,” commented the other guard.
“I have always been one,” smiled Garong. “May I see the king?”
“I have sent a runner,” nodded the guard. “He will be back shortly.”
“So I am not allowed to enter your city without the king’s permission?” frowned Garong.
“I don’t know,” shrugged the guard. “We have never had an elf here before. In fact, I have never seen an elf before. We have been told not to trespass on the lands of Elderal.”
“As it should be,” grinned Garong. “May I enter the city?”
The guard hesitated, not knowing how to answer. He was saved the embarrassment when another guard came running to the gates and halted alongside him.
“I shall escort you to the keep,” stated the new guard. “Please come with me.”
Garong shook his head and followed the guard. His eyes roamed as he walked. While he had spied on the city before, he had always done so from a distance. The only time he had been in a human city had been during the Collapse when Elderal landed in the same physical location as Tagaret. The elves had left the city promptly to avoid the war that the humans were embroiled in at the time. His memories of that visit were old and faded.
Garong gazed at the buildings and the people moving along the streets. Everyone appeared to be in a hurry as they scurried about. Some of the humans noticed him. They stopped and stared as he passed. Others seemed oblivious to his passing. Nobody was overtly hostile to him, but neither were they openly friendly. Before he knew it, Garong was being led into the keep. The guards all noticed the elf entering the keep, and whispers ran rampant. Garong was shown into a room with a man sitting behind a desk. The guard halted and Garong stopped alongside him.
“Are you the king of Klandon?” asked Garong.
“I am Duke Altaro,” answered the man. “I used to be the king of Klandon, but now I am the duke of Klandon. I take it you are from Elderal. Welcome to Klandon. What brings you out of the forest?”
“I am seeking help for a problem that my people are having,” admitted Garong. I am hoping that you can help us, or direct me to where I can find Alcea.”
“What is the problem that you face?” asked Duke Altaro.
“My first problem is finding Alcea,” frowned Garong as he wondered if telling Klandon about Sarac’s people was wise.”
“Well you have found part of Alcea,” replied Duke Altaro. “The Kingdom of Klandon is no more. We have become part of Alcea. If you would tell me what you need Alcea for, perhaps I can help you.”
“There is a human named Arik,” responded Garong. “This human is important to the people of Elderal. I believe that he would be willing to help my people if I could find him, although I do not know if he is capable of helping us. Do you know this person?”
“Are you referring to King Arik?” inquired the duke.
“King Arik?” echoed Garong. “I do not think so. The Arik I seek is young. He visited Elderal not long ago. He traveled with others, including a dwarf. He rode a unicorn. Are you familiar with him?”
“That is King Arik,” nodded Duke Altaro. “He is the king of Alcea. You have very impressive friends. As to where he is right now, I cannot say.”
“He never mentioned that he was a king,” frowned Garong. “Do you swear allegiance to him?”
“He has recently been crowned king,” nodded the duke, “and, yes, we swear allegiance to him. What does he have to do with Elderal?”
“He is the prophesized one for our people,” explained Garong. “He is to save us from the forces of Sarac. I must find him immediately.”
“That will be impossible to do,” frowned Duke Altaro. “He led us in battle recently, but we do not know where he is now. I can try to get a message to him, but I can not be sure that he will receive it any time soon.”
“This is a problem that cannot wait,” frowned Garong. “My people are endangered, and Arik’s life may be in danger.”
“You have some explaining to do,” Duke Altaro said sternly as he rose from his chair “If there is danger to King Arik, I want to hear about it now.”
“The danger is not from my people,” Garong replied quickly as he realized that the duke had taken his statement the wrong way. “Arik is known to my people as Valon. We will not harm him. He is on a quest for us. It is something that he must find and return to Elderal. The danger to him is that Elderal has been invaded by Dark Riders and Black Devils.”
“How many?” interrupted Duke Altaro with concern evident in his voice.
“Thousands,” replied Garong. “My people will need help to defeat them. Sorelderal is too far for us to seek help from our own people. Perhaps the armies of Klandon can help?”
“If it is the wish of King Arik,” vowed Duke Altaro, “my men will gladly come to your aid. Sarac’s army is our sworn enemy.”
“But you cannot ask your king,” Garong pointed out. “A promise of help that cannot be fulfilled rings hollow.”
“You are too quick to come to that conclusion,” retorted Duke Altaro as he waved to some unseen person in the corner of the room.
Garong watched in amazement as a little green man darted to the center of the room and fluttered to land on the desk.
“Go to Tagaret, Droplet,” instructed the duke. “Relay this conversation to General Gregor. Ask his advice on how we are to proceed.”
The fairy nodded and flew out the window. Garong shook his head in wonder and the duke smiled at him.
“The fairy people have sworn allegiance to King Arik,” Duke Altaro said. “It may take a while, but we shall find a solution to your problem. I will have a room set up for you in case it requires a stay while we wait for the answer.”
“You appear to be very accommodating,” replied Garong. “Why are you so willing to make Elderal’s problem your own? I expected more resistance to our plea for help.”
“What you have said to me rings true,” answered Duke Altaro. “I know that King Arik is on a quest to find the Book of Things. Supposedly, he is looking for it for the elves. While your people have never been friendly to Klandon, neither have you been bad neighbors. I suspect that the fortunes of our people are intertwined. In the very least, we share a very despicable common enemy.”
“My people have only asked to be left alone,” nodded Garong. “Klandon has respected that wish. I am glad that I came here today. Perhaps our peoples can learn to be better neighbors.”
“I suspect that we shall become closer than neighbors,” smiled King Altaro. “Let me have a man show you around Klandon. The time will go faster for you, and you may learn a little about our people.”
“I would like that,” smiled Garong.
* * *
The Rangers rode cautiously into the city of Forgum. While Prince Darok received some questioning stares, the other Rangers were mostly ignored. Forgum had long been a city that was neutral in the battle of the rogue armies. It was, in fact, a city free from the conflicts and rivalries that raged through Sordoa. The unspoken rule, established not long after the Collapse, was that fighting within the city was forbidden. It was a place where enemies could walk safely past one another without fear of attack. It was also a city where one could gather much information about what was happening in Sordoa.
Alex led the way to the Sordoan Arms Inn. The Rangers stabled their horses and entered the common room. The room was crowded with soldiers from many armies and there was no empty table. Alex was about to leave when a group rose to leave. He qu
ickly moved to secure the table for the Rangers.
The Rangers were seated for several minutes before a girl came to take their request. Alex spent the time listening to snippets of conversation. When it came time for him to choose his meal, Alex asked for the fish.
“He really would rather have the venison,” interrupted Prince Darok.
The girl looked confused and focused expectantly on Alex. Alex nodded and agreed. The girl shook her head and left. When she was gone, Alex looked questioningly at the dwarf.
“The fish is rotten,” explained Prince Darok. “Can you not smell it? You would be spending the night in the bushes for sure.”
Alex smiled and nodded to the dwarf. He returned to listening to the conversations around him and ate his meal in silence. A mercenary entered the room and gazed about before coming to the Rangers’ table and sitting next to Alex.
“You folks heading to Melbin or Tagaret?” the mercenary asked.
“We are heading south,” Alex answered vaguely. “Yourself?”
“I came to Forgum to answer that question,” admitted the mercenary. “I am Captain Azule of the Sarga Mercenary Company. My boys are split on the question of where to go. Most figure that we will have to fight Emperor Hanchi sooner or later. The real question is where to do it. I am almost of a mind to return to Sarga instead.”
“Haven’t the Lanoirians already taken Sarga?” asked Alex.
“No,” the captain shook his head. “We certainly expected him to, but his whole army is coming up the eastern coast. It is as if he doesn’t care about pockets of resistance behind him. Then again, I guess I would be pretty confident with a hundred thousand men behind me.”
“A hundred thousand?” echoed Arik. “Can Trekum really resist such an army?”
“Probably not,” shrugged Captain Azule. “From what I hear though, you don’t want to be overrun by these Lanoirians. If you are, you either join them or die. They do not respect mercenaries.”
Emerald of the Elves Page 31
