The Key of Creation: Book 01 - Rise of the Destroyer

by M. D. Bushnell

  Tiberius frowned. “Unfortunately, I no longer have it. I loaned it to a noble named Jahann, one of my fellow advisors to Brodan. He has only been in Akkadia for a short time, yet he is very intelligent, well versed in history, and has Brodan’s trust. He overheard me discussing the matter and offered his help.”

  “I need it back.”

  Tiberius yawned and shook his head. “It’s too late for a social call, but I have an appointment with him in the morning before the Melee Tourney. Come with me tomorrow, and you can retrieve it from him.”

  Aldrick was wide-awake and anxious to compare the artifact, but knew his father was correct and agreed to wait. “I’ll meet you in the library after breakfast.”

  The following day was heavily overcast, and angry clouds roiled overhead casting a dark gloom in the library as Aldrick waited for his father. In the dim light, Aldrick strained to read his symbology book by the flickering light of a small tallow candle.

  Frigid northern air had arrived with the dark nebulous clouds, and a shiver ran down his spine. Rubbing his hands together for warmth, he skimmed over the description of the artifact again. He still did not understand what connection there could be between the Clavis, Sargon, and the attack, but he was determined to find it.

  Sargon had disappeared after his defeat at the battle of Mount Zagrias, and his body had never been recovered. What might have happened to his remains after that battle was one of the great, unsolved mysteries. The gray robed man had obtained the artifact somewhere, either from Sargon’s remains directly, or from whomever it was that had discovered them. Aldrick could not help but think that if there was no connection between the attack and the artifact, it was one incredible coincidence.

  “If only I believed in coincidence,” Aldrick thought out loud.

  “Do you believe in tea?” Jarvus inquired.

  Aldrick spun around with his heart pounding in his chest. “Jarvus! By the All Father, you scared me. I did not hear you come in.”

  “I’m devious that way. Tea?” Jarvus grinned.

  “Thank you.”

  “I live to serve...or so it would seem.” With a stiff bow, Jarvus set down the tray. After pouring Aldrick a cup, he turned and left without a word.

  Aldrick could only smile. The trick with Jarvus was to not let him bother you, and then he was almost amusing. He had barely returned to his book and taken a sip of tea when he heard a distant bang, followed by footsteps approaching.

  Tiberius appeared a moment later. “Good morning, son. Ready to go?”

  “Before we leave, you should see this.” Aldrick flipped to the description and sketch of the golden artifact.

  Tiberius was quiet for a moment as he scanned the page. “I admit they do appear to be identical. I would want to see it again to be sure.”

  “They are one and the same.”

  “I thought about what you said last night,” Tiberius mused. “This whole dream answer seems a bit convenient to me. I have to wonder if you aren’t merely desperate to find some answers.”

  Aldrick started to object, but Tiberius held up a hand. “With that said, I see you believe it, and that’s enough for me. I also admit the resemblance between the artifact and the drawing is remarkable. I still think you should remain open-minded until we have more evidence.”

  Aldrick knew his conclusion was based mostly on his dream, and even he was skeptical of the evidence he had. It was difficult to credit the prophetic nature of his dreams of late, and he was certainly not prepared to discuss them with anyone, not even his father. However without the dream, there was only the circumstantial evidence of the hand-drawn sketch, and that was far from inarguable evidence.

  Aldrick hesitantly agreed. “Agreed, but I don’t know what else it could be.”

  “All the more reason to visit Jahann. If he corroborates your findings, I would say you are on to something.”

  Aldrick closed the symbology book, and they headed toward the exit. “You believe this Jahann will know about the artifact?”

  “I don’t know him very well, but Brodan trusts him. He is knowledgeable in history, especially Illyrian, so I thought he may have an insight as to what the artifact is. ”

  Aldrick nodded. “Sargon did fight for Illyria during the Great War.”

  Tiberius clapped Aldrick on the shoulder. “But did you know that scholars now suspect Sargon may have actually been the mastermind behind the Great War?”

  Aldrick scratched his head. “I thought it was the king at the time, King Nin...”

  Tiberius finished the thought. “Ninevall, yes. Documents have recently been discovered in Durin, a small mining village to the west of Kishen, that apparently make it clear Sargon was the true force behind the invasion of Asturia, and that King Ninevall was merely a pawn. I have not seen these documents myself, but that kind of proof would certainly change the history books.”

  “That would conveniently put the blame for the Great War on Sargon, rather than Ninevall and Illyria,” Aldrick mused.

  “If the evidence is real,” Tiberius agreed. “Honestly, I’m not certain it matters that much anymore. Our relations with Illyria have been much improved since extensive trade was opened along the Tianna River between here and Karkerech.”

  “Can documents discovered in Illyria truly be trusted? Evidence like that seems circumstantial to me.”

  “As circumstantial as dream evidence?” Tiberius asked with a smirk.

  Aldrick grimaced. “Fair enough.”

  “An associate of mine was planning to travel to Durin to view these documents after he attended King Zabalan’s Gathering to discuss trade relations and the Tournament about a fortnight ago. His return is overdue however. I’ll share his report with you when I get it.”

  “I would like that.”

  Tiberius glanced at his son as they walked. “Have you considered what it means if you could prove this artifact was owned by Sargon? Do you believe there is some connection between this object and the attacks?”

  Aldrick shrugged. “I have no idea, but between the attacks and the list, there is something strange going on. I would like to find out what it is before anyone else dies.”

  Tiberius put a hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “I love you son, and your family’s safety is the most important thing. I’m certain we will sort this out. Ah, here we are.”

  Aldrick nodded as they arrived at the front of the large estate Jahann had purchased upon his arrival in Akkadia. Judging by its proximity to the palace, and its beautiful, well-kempt exterior and meticulously trimmed lawns and gardens, it was obvious the mansion housed one of the truly wealthy of Akkadia. Jahann may have been a recent newcomer to the city, but it was clear he had risen quickly within the hierarchy of the nobility.

  The servant who answered the door had bags under his eyes, and clearly had not slept much the night before, if at all. Their unspoken request to speak with the master of the house was met with a preemptory denial.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid Master Jahann is not seeing anyone today.”

  Tiberius cleared his throat. “Now see here my good man, I have an appointment and your master is expecting me. Please inform him that Tiberius is here.”

  The servant sighed and glared at them for a moment. “Wait here,” he replied gruffly, and then slammed the door without another word.

  Aldrick gave his father a long-suffering look. “What is it with servants these days?”

  Before long the door reopened and the annoyed servant quickly ushered them inside. They immediately saw the reason for his disheveled appearance and surly behavior. The interior, though richly decorated and quite genteel, was in a complete state of disarray. The furnishings were strewn about, and it appeared as if a small whirlwind had torn through the house, leaving a trail of devastation. Curios were smashed, books and clothes lay scattered about, and furniture was overturned or had been hacked apart. Practically nothing they could see remained unmolested.

  Jahann stood in the cente
r of the destruction, waiting to greet them. He was middle-aged, rather emaciated and almost completely bald. One bony cheek sported an odd reddish scar and he was dressed all in black.

  Following the obligatory introductions, Jahann gestured around him to the devastation and in a slightly wheezing voice said, “I apologize Tiberius, but I forgot about our appointment. As you can see, we’ve had a nasty break-in, and I’ve been rather busy.” The thin man proceeded to blow his nose loudly into an embroidered handkerchief.

  “So I see,” Tiberius replied. “Was anyone hurt?”

  Jahann shook his head, but said nothing as he wiped his nose.

  “Thank the All Father,” Tiberius continued. “I hate to bother you when you clearly have matters to attend to, so we’ll talk later. For now, I’ll just collect the artifact I lent you, and we can reschedule the rest for another time.”

  Gingerly tucking his handkerchief into an inner pocket, Jahann snuffled loudly. “A bad piece of luck there, I’m afraid. The…object you loaned me to research has been stolen, among other things.”

  “Stolen!” Aldrick exclaimed. “Are you certain?”

  Jahann cringed. “Quite certain, yes. It was in my study, and since I knew you were coming this morning, I checked for it first thing. Sure enough it was gone.”

  Aldrick gave Jahann a sharp look. “A moment ago you said you forgot the appointment with my father.”

  Jahann started, and then snuffled loudly. “Well…I did remember at first and thought to look for the object. But honestly, after seeing the extent of the damage to the rest of the house, our appointment was the last thing on my mind.”

  “Of course Jahann,” Tiberius interjected in a mollifying tone. “No disrespect was intended. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Aldrick was still upset, and spoke in a harsher tone than he intended. “You are quite certain it’s gone?”

  Jahann sniffed and nodded, although he was clearly annoyed. “Positive.”

  “Most unfortunate,” Tiberius interrupted. “Thank you for seeing us. Please inform me if anything turns up.” Putting his arm around his fuming son, he led the way out of the house and back out onto the street.

  “We cannot simply leave,” Aldrick demanded, once they were out of earshot. “I don’t trust that sniveling man.”

  “What can we do, demand to search his house? What would that prove?”

  Aldrick took a deep breath, struggling to control his anger. “I’m certain the artifact is the least of his concerns right now, but I find it very difficult to believe we were that unlucky. His mansion just happens to be broken into the night before we arrive, and the thieves miraculously happen upon the one thing we need. It’s infuriating!”

  “Unlucky for Jahann too, I would think.”

  Aldrick grimaced. “It’s difficult to believe this is a coincidence.”

  Tiberius raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe in coincidence?”

  Aldrick took another deep breath. “My point exactly.”

  They walked back to the palace in silence. Aldrick only broke the quiet once they arrived back at the library. “What if this was not a coincidence. What if the thieves were looking for the artifact?”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  Aldrick pondered for a moment. “Who knew about it besides us?”

  “Only Brandt before he died, and now Jahann,” Tiberius mused. “Wait, I take that back. Gormond was there when I told Brandt about it, and again later when I gave it to Jahann. I imagine he’s forgotten all about it by now; he isn’t exactly the brightest candle in the box.”

  “I haven’t spoken of it to anyone except you,” Aldrick added. “Other than my family, that skinny runt I spotted yesterday is the only other person I’m sure knows of its existence.”

  Tiberius nodded. “There is a likely candidate.”

  “He could have ransacked Jahann’s to retrieve the artifact. If it’s as important as I think it is, someone is sure to want it back.”

  “How would he have learned Jahann had it?”

  Aldrick shrugged. “How about Gormond? With Brandt dead, he’s the only one who knew Jahann had it.”

  “He’s a simpleton, but I don’t believe Gormond would do that.”

  Aldrick grabbed his father’s arm. “But is it possible?”

  Tiberius considered for a moment. “Gormond has a kind heart and I truly believe he would not do that on purpose. It would not be difficult for that weasel to trick him however, so it’s not impossible.”

  Aldrick nodded. “I have enough reason to bring that knave to justice for accosting my son, even without the artifact. But clearly it’s important and I want it back.”

  Tiberius slapped a hand on Aldrick’s shoulder as they arrived back at his favorite table. “Why don’t you take your family to the Tournament this afternoon? The Melee Tourney begins today; that should be fun, especially for Adrias. Brodan promised extra guards for your family, so you should be safe. It’s understandable, but you’ve been nearly obsessed with the attacks and the mystery of the artifact. Why don’t you take a break?”

  Aldrick started to object, but Tiberius cut him off. “I will speak with Gormond and see what he has to say. I can’t believe he would have told your rat-faced friend anything, but he won’t lie to me. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Aldrick grudgingly consented, remembering he had promised to take Jelénna and Adrias to the Melee Tourney. He waved goodbye to his father and left to find his family.

  Chapter 12

  The Melee Tourney, the first of the three physical trials of the Tournament of the King, was beginning at last. A fan favorite, two separate arenas had been prepared for the large numbers of spectators expected to attend the event. Crowds would have better views, and be much more organized with two matches running concurrently.

  The physical trials were the primary attraction for those attending the Tournament. Only nobles were allowed to attend the majority of the ceremonies, and given their inherent pomposity, most commoners felt they were not missing anything. In contrast, the physical trials were open to all, and the real crowd-pleasers of the Tournament.

  The final event of the Tournament of the King, the Crown Run, was bound to be exciting, but it could last for days and took the participants far out of the city and into the countryside. After the ceremonies announcing the finalists for the Crown Run, the spectators would not see the contestants until the return of the victorious champion.

  During the early stages of the Tournament, commoners had kept themselves entertained with the fair, while awaiting the inception of the physical trials. Merchants and peddlers of every description had erected provisional tents and booths both inside the city, and out. Much of the activities and commerce within the city limits was family friendly, and toys, trinkets, gifts, clothing and keepsakes could be purchased for children of all ages.

  For most however, the biggest draw of the fair was the food. Throughout the marketplace, vendors sold every imaginable kind of cuisine. Children and adults alike relished delicacies they had never before enjoyed, or in many cases, imagined. Most peasants and farmhands might never again have access to the amazing variety of food and drink available at the Tournament. Peddlers tempted the passers-by with fried vegetables and meats of every description, along with mixes of cheeses and poultry in thin breads and a wide selection of roasted dishes. Honey cakes, homemade candies, breads, preserved jams, and more were available for a price.

  So rich was the astounding abundance of temptations at the market, there were many who had already spent all the money they had. Thievery and pickpocketing were rampant as the Tournament progressed, and while the Akkadian army maintained order as best they could, the sheer volume of people made the task a difficult one. Consequently, many unsuspecting visitors found themselves suddenly lighter in goods or coin at some point.

  Outside the city, the fair extended out into the makeshift camp of those unwilling or unable to secure accommoda
tions within the city. Those merchants and peddlers unable to find space in the city marketplace had no choice but to erect their booths in the fields, outside the city walls.

  In some cases, these vendors were purveyors of merchandise not allowed within the city walls at all. All manner of contraband and entertainments were available in this secondary and less reputable marketplace, much of which could only be found at night long after the main marketplace had closed for the evening. Given the desire and the gold, diversions of every description were available, and it was here that many a Tournament visitor spent their time drinking, gambling, wenching, and other even more outlandish pursuits.

  With the start of the Melee Tourney, most now found their way to one of the two large arenas prepared for the event, splitting up more or less evenly between the two. The air remained cold, as winter desperately clung to the land with a last dying gasp. Although nearly High Sun, dark clouds roiled menacingly overhead in the leaden sky. The crowd shivered in the cold northern air and scanned the horizon with worried looks, endlessly discussing among themselves whether it would rain, or snow. Either would force a delay in the Tournament, and be exceedingly unpleasant for the spectators.