“Tivon, gather your best men. We need to find out where the dragons are heading, and we need to do so quickly. Thrift, get this place back on its feet and see what you can do about making it more defensible from aerial attacks. May Niveren, watch over us all.”
13.
Sunguard
Ferran, Sophia and Hannah reached the capital just as the sun was dipping below the western horizon. Their journey from Retbit had been long but uneventful. The travellers they encountered on the roads had told them of grim tidings and dark deeds emanating from the capital.
With Ricard on campaign, and the king locked away in the palace, responsibility of running the city had fallen to Archbishop Trentian. The man had long been an enemy of the mages, and his ambitions to establish the Niveren Cult as a power in the realm were well known. With no one to check his zealots, the cult had run wild throughout the city. No one was safe from the cult’s Vigilantes.
On the approach to the city, they passed dozens of gallows and tree from which the cult’s victims had been hanged. The bodies swayed in the chill breeze.
There was a long line of people waiting to be granted access into the city, and with night quickly drawing in some of the waiting folk had set up campfires at the roadside. Moving amongst the crowd were men and women dressed in red tunics. Each of them carried a club, and about their necks hung amulets emblazoned with the golden star symbol of the Niveren cult.
“It looks like getting in and out of the city may not be as easy as we thought,” Sophia muttered.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ferran replied in agreement.
“How can they possibly know who is a wielder and who isn’t?” Hannah asked beside them. The young woman had her cloak wrapped tightly around herself to keep out the chill.
Ferran rubbed his chin in thought.
“Now, that is a good question. Although, I suspect they operate just like any other mob of thugs. I doubt that very many of those poor sods we passed on the road were even wielders in the first place.”
Shouts of protest caught their attention. At the head of the crowd, a large group of the red-cloaked vigilantes were shoving people back and away from Sunguard’s main gate.
“They’re closing the gate for the night,” Hannah said, leaning forward in her saddle to get a better look.
Sure enough, the crowd soon began to disperse, and before long more campfires were lit at the roadside. The fact that so many refugees were trying to gain access to a city that was executing people highlighted their desperation. The inns and taverns were already full to bursting, meaning that the chances that they would be able to find a place to sleep in comfort were low.
“I don’t fancy sleeping outside tonight,” Hannah complained. “It’s too cold.”
Ferran chuckled. The girl didn’t know what cold was. When hunting Fell Beasts, he had spent more nights than he could remember camping outside in the depths of winter. Sophia, too, had done likewise in her days as a Witch Hunter.
“Fortunately for us, we don’t have to. Let’s find a place to tether the horses, and I’ll explain all,” he said mysteriously.
They rode their horses back down the road, and Ferran led them off-road until they came to a clearing situated on the bank of the river that flowed underneath Sunguard’s southern wall. The fortified wall loomed over them, only the flicker of a torch burning at the top suggesting that there was someone patrolling. They tethered their horses to a tree before Ferran walked down the slippery river bank. His boots were caked in mud. He knelt at the water’s edge, closed his eyes and drew upon his magic. He then placed his hand into the cold water. Muttering a spell, the water began to fizz and freeze over. Focusing he directed the ice to create a narrow bridge over the flowing water.
“Come on, that spell won’t hold for long,” he said, rising. He ran over the temporary ice bridge and reached the base of the city walls. Hannah and Sophia followed close behind.
Ferran placed a hand on the stone and began to tap on the stones. The two women looked at each other in bemusement.
“Husband, what are you doing?” Sophia asked.
Ferran chuckled. To any observer, it would look like he’d gone mad. He ran his hand over a smooth stone and pushed. With a click, the stone slid inwards.
“Finding us a way inside the city, my dear,” he replied with a wry smile.
A clunking sound came from within the wall, and to Hannah and Sophia’s surprise, a section of the stonework slid aside to reveal a hidden passageway. Ferran ducked inside and took a firestone from the pouch at his belt to light the way. Once they were all inside, he pressed down on another stone, and the wall slid back into place.
They were inside a small square-shaped chamber that stank of mold and damp. Thick layers of dust coated the ground, and cobwebs hung in every nook and cranny.
“As a Nightblade, we are sometimes used as bodyguards for the king and nobility. We have to learn of all of the secret ways in and out of a city in case the worst should happen. If we follow the right passageway, it should bring us out at the base of the King’s Spire. We must be cautious. It’s like a maze down here, and I doubt anyone has used these passages in centuries, which means something else may have chosen to nest in them.”
“Like what?” Hannah gulped.
Ferran faced the young woman and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t think we have anything to fear from Fell Beasts, but many mages have lived in Sunguard over the millennia, including Necromancers. During the Golden Empire, the Wizard Lords were said to have used the city’s tunnels and sewers as places to perform unnatural experiments on the populace. Even today, there are tales of beggars vanishing from the streets with no explanation.”
The girl’s face visibly paled at his words.
“Ignore him, Hannah. They are just stories. No one has ever proven that they are true.”
“Perhaps because no one is foolish enough to venture down here,” Hannah muttered under her breath.
Ferran smiled. “If you’d like to take your chances with those religious nut jobs then be my guest, but I for one would rather take my chances in the passageways. Sophia’s probably right; they are just tales to frighten to folk. Now, let’s get moving, shall we? I have no idea how long this could take.”
Ferran led the way through the dark, narrow passage. Cobwebs constantly tickled his face, but he pushed on regardless. There were worse things to worry about than spiders, although from the nervous way Hannah kept close to his back she would likely disagree. The young mage had added to the glow of his firestone by casting a ball of luminous light that floated just above their heads. Magelight was a handy spell to have.
In his mind’s eye, Ferran tried to remember the layout of the passageways. It had been many years since his tutor, Alther, had made him study the blueprints of each of the realm’s major cities. He slowed and held the Firestone up to the wall on his right.
“Aha,” he exclaimed as a memory came back to him. He wiped dust from the wall to reveal arrow-shaped symbols carved into the stone. Each of the symbols differed from the other, and each one signified a location inside the city.
“If I remember correctly if we follow this symbol,” he said, pointing to an arrow that had two lines running through it. “We should come out close to the palace.”
“What about the Nora?” Hannah asked timidly.
Ferran turned to face the girl. He shared an amused look with Sophia.
“The Nora is nothing but a myth. There is no human-like creature that stalks the sewers and tunnels of Sunguard and comes out at night to prey on the blood of mortals,” he replied with a smile.
Hannah tightened her grip on her staff. She wasn’t convinced. The tale of the Nora had always frightened her growing up. The other girls had told each other the story of the creature that appeared as either a dashing man or gorgeous woman, and who lured people to their deaths.
“Hannah, I have travelled to many of the darkest places in this land, and I can assu
re you that I have not once encountered such a creature. It’s Fell Beasts and the other abominations that you should be worried about, not something dreamt up by superstitious villagers.”
Sophia scowled at her husband.
“Don’t make fun of her,” she scolded. She placed a hand on Hannah’s shoulder to reassure her. “I, too, have travelled the length and breadth of this kingdom Hannah, and I too have never encountered a Nora. No Witch Hunter or Nightblade that I’ve met has either - but that doesn’t mean to say that they don’t exist. Anything is possible.”
Hannah nodded at her friend’s words. They put her racing mind somewhat at ease. She reassured herself that she couldn’t be safer; after all, she was in the company of a legendary Nightblade and famous Witch Hunter.
“Shall we?” Ferran asked, impatient to get moving.
“Lead the way, oh fearless one,” Sophia said sarcastically. Ferran rolled his eyes, and Hannah giggled, despite the scary surroundings.
They pressed on, following the markings as they went. Without them, they would have gotten lost easily, and the tunnels went on for countless miles. Only the firestone and Hannah’s magelight pushed back the darkness. Not being able to see much in front of them was bad enough, but it was the eerie silence of the place that was worse. Occasionally they caught the sounds of the city above, but thanks to the acoustics of the tunnels they were distorted, adding to the creepiness.
The tunnels sloped downwards for what seemed like a long time, before once again ascending. At the top of the rise, the passageway split off into four different directions. Ferran held his firestone up to the walls to seek out the symbol they were following and pointed to the passage on the left. They walked on for another ten minutes, when suddenly the Nightblade froze and held up a hand in warning. He rubbed the firestone to dispel the light it cast and urged Hannah to do likewise with her magelight. For a moment, she was about to protest. She had no desire to be plunged into pitch darkness. Adrenaline surged through her at the fear she felt, but reluctantly she did as asked. She closed her eyes and muttered the dispelling words. The magelight faded into nothingness, leaving them in the dreadful dark. Except, it wasn’t completely black as she had feared. Up ahead, a light was flickering. Someone or something was down in the tunnels with them.
“You two stay here; I’ll scout ahead,” Ferran whispered.
Hannah tightened her grip on her staff. Sophia drew a dagger from the sheath at her belt.
“Be careful,” she whispered back.
The Nightblade crept up the passageway, his black armour almost making him impossible to discern in the dim light. A master of stealth, Ferran could move without making a sound.
As he approached the light source, he pressed himself against the tunnel wall and edged closer. Voices could be heard ahead. He sighed in relief; whoever was ahead of them wasn’t a Fell Beast. Fighting in the narrow confines would not have been a pleasant experience.
“… the city is ready I assure you,” a familiar-sounding voice said.
“It had better be. Once the master has dealt with Bison, he will march here. I trust that you have sown enough discord amongst the populace that there will be no one able to resist?” This other voice belonged to a woman, one that Ferran did not recognise.
“Yes, yes, the city will be ready to fall when he gets here. Now tell me, is everything you promised ready? Is my safety guaranteed?” the man asked.
The woman scoffed. “Even someone as wicked as I find your complete disloyalty and desire for self-preservation distasteful. But yes, you have my assurances that once the city is taken and the king is in our grasp, you will be free to leave.”
The man sighed audibly.
The identity of the man was troubling Ferran. He had to get a better look. Cautiously, he edged closer to the light and the bend in the tunnel. Once at the curve, he peeked his head around. His eyes widened in surprise.
The man was none other than Arch Bishop Trentian, the head of the Niveren Cult, and the man assigned to oversee the ruling of the city in Ricard’s absence. The old man was unmistakable dressed in the robes of his office.
“I do not care what you think, witch. I know that Danon is the stronger. It is just a matter of time before his darkness spreads across the face of the entire world. I also trust that I will be amply rewarded for the part I have played in keeping the wielders under persecution. Remember, without that, the mages would have intervened long ago and put your plans in jeopardy. My influence over the throne enabled you to set his schemes in motion. You have no idea how tiresome it has been pretending to praise Niveren.”
“Your sacrifice will be well rewarded, I’m sure,” the woman replied sarcastically.
Anger swelled in Ferran’s heart. The persecution of the wielders had been orchestrated by Trentian! All those years of innocent mages being executed simply for being born differently from their peers had been because of him. The man was in his eighties and had led the cult for decades. The amount of discord his foul preaching had sown was almost too much to bear. Ferran closed his eyes as memories of his mother being burnt alive on a pyre flashed into his mind. She had been killed because of Trentian’s wicked lies and influence over the monarchy. His rhetoric had given rise to fanatics such as Sophia’s father, the Witch Hunter General Elias, the man who had executed his mother. He resisted the urge to punch the wall. He should have seen this coming. Years before, he had stumbled upon a plot between the Hunters and the N’gist, a plot he and Sophia had foiled together. He had assumed Elias had been the ringleader, but now he knew better. Trentian had been behind the persecutions.
“There is one other thing before you go,” the woman said.
“What now?” Trentian replied irritably.
“Our spies have reported that the Baron Rusay Broadmane has sent people here to try and get the king out of the city and out of our grasp. I trust you will double the guard on the brat. Lord Danon has something special planned for him, and he’d be most upset if he slipped through your grip.”
“What people?” Trentian asked uncertainly. His voice was suddenly nervous.
“From what my informants tell me, one is a Nightblade. Of the others, all he said was that they were female. I trust from the way your skin has paled you know of whom I speak?”
“Ferran of Blackmoor and Sophia Cunning,” Trentian stammered. “It must be. I will treble the guards!”
“Be sure that you do. I have business to attend to in the market quarter. I will send for you again when the master arrives.”
Ferran held his position as he heard the woman’s footsteps fade. The light cast by the torch also faded as Trentian, too, departed. Once he was sure the passage ahead was empty, he relit the firestone and called for Sophia and Hannah.
“Trentian means to betray the king and the city. He was meeting with a woman, no doubt a N’gist witch. He also knows that we are heading to Sunguard, but is not aware that we’re already inside.”
“We have the advantage of a surprise then,” Sophia said “Our list of enemies continues to grow by the day, it seems.”
Ferran nodded in agreement, but felt troubled.
“All those years he’s been sat at the heart of the kingdom’s politics. All those years of influencing the nobility, convincing them to persecute the wielders. How much blood does that wretch have on his hands?” He looked at Sophia, his eyes dark. She knew that look well.
“You aim to kill him?” she replied softly.
“He’s behind all the years of bloodshed. If it hadn’t been for the persistence of the Niveren cult, the Witch Hunters would never have been given the mandate they received. Directly or not, Trentian is one of the reasons my mother was slain in front of my eyes as a boy.”
Ferran stepped close to his wife and touched her face with a gloved hand.
“I have to do this, Sophia. You have all the skills you need to get past a few guards to save the king, and.” he said, looking at Hannah, “she has magic.”
Sophia s
miled. Hannah squeezed her hand.
“Once you get the king out of the palace, use these tunnels to get out of the city. Follow these symbols,” He pointed to the symbol of an arrow that had two lines running through it. “If I’m not here to meet you, get to Caldaria as fast as possible.”
“I understand. Be careful, my love,” Sophia said softly, before kissing her husband deeply.
The husband and wife said their goodbyes. Hannah summoned the magelight back into existence as they watched Ferran hurry down the tunnel that Trentian had taken.
“He’ll be fine,” Hannah said reassuringly.
“I know,” Sophia replied. “Come on, we have a king to rescue.”
14.
Luxon walked forward, his heart racing. The ground crunched as his boots touched the scorched earth. The bitterly cold winds howled like a wounded beast. The sky was filled with black roiling clouds that flashed with green lightning. The air smelt of smoke and ash. In short, the world in which he now found himself was as close to the nightmare of the Void as he could remember. Memories of his time trapped in that dreadful place surfaced in his mind. He had emerged from the portal onto a wide flat outcropping which towered over a vast blackened plain. The place reminded him of the desolate and barren deserts of Yundol.
Ahead of him stood a solitary tree, and beneath its bare branches flickered a small fire. He approached the tree warily. Whoever had made the fire was nowhere to be seen. He felt weary; the bleak surroundings were wearing on his emotions. He sat next to the flickering flames and held his hands up to its heat. The desolation of the world around him felt like an oppressive weight on his shoulders.
“What happened here?” he wondered.
After the revelation about Niveren’s true identity and everything else the portals had shown him so far, he was curious as to what they had left in store for him. His thoughts were in turmoil. The man who was his mentor was none other than the immortal god Niveren. He couldn’t help but feel betrayed. All of the things he had suffered were because Thanos had set him on the path. His entrapment in the Void, the freeing of Danon, the death of his mother, and now the sickness that was threatening his life – all had happened because of him. He suddenly felt weary. The sickness was tightening its grip over him; soon he wouldn’t be able to use his magic at all. Even using it sparingly as he had been doing had been excruciating. Staring into the dancing flames, his thoughts drifted to Hannah and his friends. Where were they? Were they safe? He’d received no word from the world outside of the Isle. He’d lost track of time; how long had he been travelling through time and space?
Quest for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 3) Page 10
