Chapter Two
Lucinder - Adventure
“Come, Cinder,” said Nurse Deena, who was standing in the doorway of the prince’s small library. The portly old woman gestured impatiently at him. “There is little time, child!”
Lucinder sighed at being called a child. He was fifteen after all and a prince, even if few people knew of him. He put a feather in his book to mark his place.
He had been reading the ancient exploits of Sar Gander, a female gnome warrior who had been named by the Bowl of Souls nearly 500 years ago. She had been the personal bodyguard of Regus Drelbach, first king of Khalpany and Lucinder’s direct ancestor. He had read the book multiple times, but this was one of his favorite parts and he loathed to put it down.
“Can I bring my book?” he asked.
Lucinder knew that wherever the nurse planned to take him, he would just have to sit and wait again. His days were often spent being dragged around from one place in the palace to the next, always with urgency, but most often just to sit around and wait for whatever purpose was laid out for him.
“If you must. Now come!” she said and Lucinder realized that her gestures weren’t just impatient, they were panicked. She turned her head away from him to look down the hallway, her eyes full of fear.
He put the book down and stood from the cushioned couch. He came to her side, intrigued. What could have his normally stoic nurse so flustered? He looked in the direction she was peering but could see no one in the long hallway outside the room. “Is father calling for me or something?”
“Undoubtedly,” she said. “Let me see your hands.”
Obediently, he held out his hand and let her inspect them. Nurse Deena often did this. She looked at his palms and the backs of his hands, then carefully examined his fingernails. Seemingly satisfied, Deena stepped into the library with him. She shut the door behind her and locked it with her master key.
“If father wants me, then why lock the only door? There’s no other way out of this room,” he said, his puzzlement increasing.
She returned her attention to him and her frightened eyes softened. She reached up and cupped his chin with one wrinkled hand. “Cinder, do you trust me?”
“Of course, Nurse Deena,” he replied, and it was true. The irascible old woman had been at his side since he could remember. She had even raised his father before him. In a way, he was closer to her than his own mother who, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, could scarcely stand to be near him for more than a few minutes at a time.
“Then will you promise to stay at my side and follow my instructions without question?” Deena asked, her tone as serious as he had ever heard.
Lucinder blinked. “Uh . . . okay.”
With a firm nod, she then fished a small vial of clear liquid out of her apron pocket. She pulled the stopper from the vial. Carefully, she bent and poured the liquid into the library door’s keyhole.
The keyhole smoked and hissed. The hole was soon filled with a black sludge that quickly solidified.
Lucinder blinked again. His mind was suddenly full of questions, but he forced them away. “You’ve sealed us in.”
“I’ve bought us time,” Deena corrected, then hurried across the modest library to the edge of the rearmost bookcase. She reached behind it and pulled on something. Lucinder heard a dull clank and the nurse pulled on the edge of the bookcase. It rotated smoothly away from the wall, revealing an opening and a descending stairwell beyond.
“A secret passage!” he said, his worry turning to excitement. How many countless hours had he spent in this small room throughout the years, often locked inside? Yet this exit had been here all along.
“Secret to most,” Deena said and motioned for him to go inside. “We can only hope it remains so for a while longer.”
Lucinder stepped inside and his nanny joined him. She pulled on a chain affixed to the back of the bookcase. It swung shut and there was another clank as an iron bar connected with a latch on the back of the bookcase to hold it in place. The stairwell was dark for a few long seconds. Then it brightened as Deena touched a small light orb in a wall sconce. She picked the orb up with her hand and started down the twisting stone steps.
“Uh, I know I promised not to ask questions . . .” Lucinder began.
“Then keep that promise,” she replied, holding the orb in front of her. “Shh. We must be as silent as possible until we are free of this place.”
A smile spread across the teenager’s face as he followed his old nanny down the stairwell. He knew vaguely that he should be alarmed by the situation, but the only feeling in his heart was the sudden thrill of adventure. This was something the sheltered prince had rarely experienced outside of books.
The walls of the stairway were uniform and in the glow of the orb it was hard to tell for certain just how far they were descending. The winding stair seemed to continue for several minutes before they reached the bottom. At the base of the stairs was a short hallway that ended at a wall that was plain but for a single iron ring that was set in the center of it.
Nurse Deena placed the glowing orb in a sconce on the wall and gripped the ring with both hands. With a grunt, she pulled the ring and twisted. With a click, the wall swung inward and Lucinder found himself looking into a narrow walkway between curving stone walls.
Deena closed the door behind her and it was dark again until she grasped another orb out of a wall sconce. It glowed to life in her grasp and she continued forward. The air in this place was musty and damp and there was a thick layer of dust on the ground marred only occasionally by depressions left by past footprints.
They walked forward through a space that was just wide enough for Lucinder to pass through without scraping his shoulders on either wall. Every so often there was a small crack in the mortar between rocks that let a small beam of light cross the walkway. Lucinder paused briefly to peer through one such crack. He couldn’t make anything out, but when he placed his ear against it he could hear a low rumble of traffic and muffled voices.
It took the prince a moment to figure out where they were, but he soon understood. They were within the outer walls of the palace. He had always assumed the six-foot-thick walls to be solid and he wondered if they were hollow all along the base. That seemed like a weakness if the palace were ever besieged.
Deena continued ahead, and he hurried to catch up with her. They continued through the narrow curving passage until they reached a point where it ended at a wall of solid rock. Just before the end there was an iron door. Like she had before, the nurse placed the orb in a sconce. She lifted a steel bar that was set across the door and pushed it inward.
They stepped into the room beyond. Light streamed in from small openings in the tops of the walls of the room revealing that it was full of sealed barrels and casks. Deena shut the door behind them and opened one of the barrels. She reached inside and withdrew two dirty blue cloaks.
She donned one of them and pulled the hood up. She handed the other one to Lucinder. “Put this on. We don’t need people taking notice of your finery.”
The prince wrinkled his nose at the filthy cloak. His clothes weren’t all that fine. They were just for lying about. Not for ceremony or anything. Still, he was too intrigued to argue the fact. He threw the cloak around his shoulders and pulled the musty smelling hood up over his head.
They passed through a narrow aisle between casks and through another door. The sound of rough voices and laughter greeted them as they entered a kitchen area. There was one long countertop covered in stacked plates and the remnants of meal preparation. Pots and pans hung from hooks on the ceiling next to two cookstoves that radiated heat. A stoop-shouldered half-orc was mopping the floor between the two stoves and ignored them as they passed by.
Deena pushed open another door and they stepped into the common room of an inn. It was midday, but the place was packed with men and women of various races drinking or gambling. Tattooed slaves wearing steel collars passed between the tables, handi
ng out mugs of ale or collecting empty plates.
Lucinder took in the place with wide eyes. This must be one of the many buildings that had been built against the base of the palace wall. He had never been so close to so many commoners before. They all looked so rough and uncultured.
Deena didn’t pause to let him enjoy the scene but forged ahead to the front door. The prince was jostled along the way, but no one paid him any particular attention and he stepped outside into the open air. The street outside was made of cobblestone and was packed with carts and carriages and passersby.
Lucinder’s smile widened. He was outside of the palace walls for the first time he could remember. He stepped away from the inn and turned to look up at the palace wall that rose twenty feet above the roof of the inn. In the distance he could just see the tops of the spires of the palace proper and the unending cliff face that rose above it.
Khalpany’s royal palace was set into the base of the Khalpan cliffs and the Capitol city of Hagenton sprawled away from its walls, covering the foothills beyond. From Lucinder’s rooms in the palace he had been able to see far out to the furthest edges of the city. He had often dreamed of walking the streets with all these people.
Nurse Deena gripped his forearm and pulled him out of the street and into the shadows between the inn and a blacksmith’s shop. “Stay still. They should be along any moment.”
He didn’t get the chance to ask who “they” were. No sooner had she finished speaking than a carriage pulled up in the street before them. A woman in a black cloak looked down at them with sharp eyes from the driver’s seat above the carriage. A long staff was laid across her lap. She nodded at Deena.
The carriage door opened, and a man stepped out. He wore a woolen tunic over a chainmail shirt and he carried an oval shield strapped to his left forearm. A sword with an ornate hilt was sheathed at his side. A crooked grin parted his weathered face.
“There you are! We’ve ridden by several times,” he said in a friendly voice. He gestured into the open door with a gloved hand. “Milady. Sir.”
“Come,” said Nurse Deena and she stepped up into the carriage.
Lucinder began to feel the first stirrings of fear within him as he followed her inside. As thrilling as this all was, what was he getting himself into? Was this being done on his father’s orders or was he going to be in trouble when this was all over?
The interior of the carriage wasn’t as fine as the few carriages Lucinder had been in before, but the seats were cushioned. Deena sat down and pulled back the hood of her cloak and Lucinder followed suit as he sat next to her.
“Can I ask a question now?” he asked.
The man stepped into the carriage with them and shut the door. The woman driver snapped the reins and the carriage jolted as the horses moved forward. The man settled down in the seat across from them. His hair was brown and curly, his eyes cornered by laugh lines. The windows at either side of the box were covered by curtains, but enough light was let in that Lucinder could plainly see that the crooked grin hadn’t left the man’s face. His eyes were taking Lucinder in.
“Well, here he is,” said the man with a pleasant chuckle. He glanced at Deena. “Did you check his hands?”
“And fingernails,” she said.
He returned his attention to Lucinder. “The hidden prince. Did you know that some people don’t think you’re real? There are rumors that the king made your existence up just so that he could claim to have an heir.”
Lucinder frowned at being called the “hidden prince.” This wasn’t the first time he had heard himself referred to by that name. Sometimes servants whispered it as he was led past them.
“My name is Lucinder,” he said. “And I’m only kept hidden because mother and father worry for my safety.”
“They would tell you that, wouldn’t they?” The man cocked his head. “Yeah, well Lucinder won’t do anymore. You look more like a . . . Shea.” He nodded. “Yeah, Shea is a nice trustworthy farm boy name. Nice to meet you.”
Lucinder’s frown turned to a scowl, but before he could say more, the man pulled off his glove and stuck out his hand. Lucinder’s eyes widened. There was a square tattoo on the back of the man’s hand. “Y-you’re a named warrior.”
The man’s smile widened. “Sir Bertrom.” He shook the prince’s hand. “I know. It’s not as impressive sounding a name as most of us get. The woman you met outside is Mistress Dagger.”
“She’s a named wizardess?” Lucinder whispered in awe. A shiver passed through the prince. Here he was, in the presence of two heroes like those in the books. This must be a rescue. What was it that they thought they were rescuing him from?
“I know what you’re thinking!” Sir Bertrom said. “Dagger is a great name. But it’s not very wizardy. I’ve offered to trade with her, but she won’t do it. She just says, ‘The Bowl wills what it wills.’”
“Even if the Bowl would let you, why would you want to trade?” Lucinder wondered. “Do you use a dagger?”
Sir Bertrom scratched his head. “Well, no. I’m a sword wielder,” he admitted, gesturing at the sword belted at his waist. “But I have a dagger. Everybody has one, right? The point is it’s a good warrior name.”
“That’s true. But Sir Bertrom isn’t a bad name,” Lucinder replied, thinking back to some of the more adventurous histories he had read. “Not like ‘Sir Stump’ or ‘Sir Lizzy.’”
Bertrom laughed. “Wow. You must read a lot. Those are some obscure ones. I met Sir Lizzy’s daughter once. She was studying at the Academy. Hard-nosed woman. Boy could she swing an axe.”
The sound of the carriage changed as the wheels left the cobblestone and traveled across dirt road. They must have exited the older part of the city and entered the outer city. Lucinder swallowed. This had all gotten far too real. “Why are the two of you here? Where are you taking me?”
“Sir Bertrom and Mistress Dagger have agreed to take you far away from Hagenton to a place where you will be safe,” said Nurse Deena.
“Safe from who?” Lucinder asked. He had been in his rooms in an isolated part of the palace. There were at least a hundred guards between there and any threat. The only way he could have been in danger is from someone inside the palace.
Deena gave him an apologetic look. “Cinder-.”
“Shea,” Sir Bertrom corrected. “Might as well start using it now, Deena. He’ll need to get used to it. In fact, we should flesh it out a bit to make it more convincing . . .” He snapped his fingers. “Shea, son of Ralf. That’ll do it. I have some proper clothes for you to change into once we get out of the city so you can look the part.”
“I don’t want to change my name or my clothes. I just want to know what’s going on!” the prince said. The novelty of the situation was starting to wear off. As fun as this was, every moment that passed he was being taken farther away from his parents.
Before Deena could respond, the carriage was jolted. There was a loud crack and the sound of splintering wood. The carriage slowed and there was a sharp rapping as Mistress Dagger beat on the roof with her staff.
Sir Bertrom swore and grasped the door handle. “Stay inside unless I call for you.”
Bertrom opened the door just as they came to a stop. Lucinder caught a glimpse of squat buildings and a dusty road before the named warrior shut the door behind him. There were shouts of alarm and he could hear a rush of people running past the carriage. Lucinder moved closer to the door and pulled back the curtains, hoping to see what was going on, but whatever it was seemed to be happening in front of the carriage.
Nurse Deena grabbed his arm, but he pulled away from her and opened the door. He pushed it open just in time for a bright flash to fill his vision. A lightning bolt struck nearby with an impact that he could feel in his bones.
Lucinder fell forward out of the carriage and stumbled onto the street, blinking away the glowing residue of the flash. Standing in the street before the carriage, electricity crackling and popping all around her, was a
woman he recognized right away. It was Priestess Sren.
The priestess was as beautiful as she was fearsome, with long flowing blond hair and luscious lips painted black. She wore an intricate suit of leather armor and a red cape, but her real protection came from the multitude of runes tattooed on her skin. The runes were glowing a soft green as they repelled the energy from Mistress Dagger’s lightning attack.
Sren’s lips parted in a contemptuous sneer as she pointed her black scepter at the wizardess that stood atop the carriage. A lance of fire shot from the tip. Mistress Dagger jumped down from the driver’s seat just in time to dodge it. The blazing lance of fire continued its arc through the air and stabbed through a building on the street beyond.
Sir Bertrom was a short distance away contending with a hulking figure that Lucinder also recognized. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, Warwielder Ghat was the captain of the Royal Guard. The orc’s massive form was covered in blood red platemail and he moved far more quickly than an orc his size should have been able to. The battle axe he swung at the named warrior was a huge and wicked thing, double sided and tipped with a dagger-like blade.
Sir Bertrom danced in front of the orc captain, deflecting a swing of the axe with his shield and stabbing the tip of his shining sword into the gaps in the orc’s armor. If his strikes wounded Ghat, the Warwielder didn’t show it. He spun and swung his axe again.
Priestess Sren was now walking toward Mistress Dagger. The wizardess raised her arms and the ground on either side of the priestess erupted. Two slabs of rock rose from the ground and slammed together in an attempt to pulp the priestess between them.
The rock simply crumbled and the priestess continued, her strides unbroken. She pointed her scepter at the wizardess and another lance of fire shot from it, but Mistress Dagger met the blast with her staff and the fire spell disintegrated into smoke.
While the wizardess’ vision was blocked by the smoke, Priestess Sren’s off hand moved quickly throwing a small dart. Mistress Dagger gasped, and her legs buckled. She held tightly to her staff to keep from falling to the ground.
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