Treachery in the Kingdom Page 2

  “Well Governor,” Maurin sighs, “What do you know? Where are the scrolls? Are you guilty of collusion?”

  Just as she verbally asks the questions, Maurin’s irises contract and her pupils widen, focusing on the governor’s left eye.

  Silence falls upon the room as Maurin and Governor Riner are locked in a gaze, one in which the feigned dignitary penetrates the governor’s mind and probes his thoughts.

  After a moment, Maurin gasps then disgustedly relinquishes her grip on Riner and allows the governor to fall to the floor. Her face contorts to express her loathing and anger toward the governor of Soroth.

  “You fool!” Maurin spits out in disgust.

  Riner gasps and trembles exceedingly upon the floor and stares up at Maurin. He takes quick shallow breaths as he watches the feigned dignitary from Mindolarn step away from him and toward a pair of recessed bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.

  With her emotions smeared across her face, Maurin reaches for a thick green tome on a shelf the height of her shoulders and pulls on it. A clicking sound resonates from the bookcase then Maurin swiftly swings it open. Behind the shelves is a metal doorway to a vault and upon its surface a shallow dome dial.

  Maurin reaches for the dial and turns it back and forth eight times. After a moment the sounds of the locking mechanism reacting to the correct combination resonates from the metal door.

  Amid the unlocking of the vault’s door, Maurin unbuttons the top part of her formal tunic and reaches within a hidden pocket, pulling out the rogulin inlayed ring, the same given to her by Dorith in the Drake’s Seven.

  As the heavy door slowly swing out and toward her, she slides the ring on her right middle finger and re-latches the buttons on her tunic.

  Beyond the metal door is a shallow vault with shelves spaced every phineal apart. Maurin briefly scans the shelves full of precious objects and her eyes see the five red porous scroll cases neatly rowed together along with the two books found by Cornar on the Isle of the Ancient Ones.

  The feigned dignitary reaches for the scroll cases and quickly places them within her satchel. As she does so, Riner lets out a beckoning sob from the floor.

  “What… What are you?”

  As she puts the last of the scroll cases into her satchel, Maurin briefly glances about the small vault. A cube of pure gold catchers her attention and she gracefully grabs it. With the cube in her left hand she turns around and walks back to Riner, who is still quivering on the ground.

  “Your vile ambition will be your undoing,” Maurin sternly states as she stands over Riner then waves her free hand in a dismissing motion.

  The six guards who had accompanied her glow with a white light then their bodies instantly break apart in a plethora of illusionary magical particles. Once they disappear, Maurin utters a sharp sounding word.

  “Si’tak.”

  Lime green magical light gathers in her right hand then instantly erupts into a long sharp shaft of shimmering energy resembling the blade of a sword.

  “Gu… Guards!” Riner cries out and stumbles to his feet.

  “You should not have sought the Au’misha’k; for all who seek it must die!” Maurin growls and quickly swings the shimmering magic toward Riner.

  In an instant the magically composed blade swiftly cuts through Riner’s neck, cleanly severing his head.

  As Riner’s corpse lifelessly falls to the floor, Maurin tosses the magical blade aside and it completely dissipates as it leaves her hand. She then proceeds to utter the words of a spell and the ring upon her finger glows with a golden light but quickly dies out.

  Puzzled by the occurrence, Maurin raises the ring to her face then mutters, “Why didn’t it work? Oh… the Ri’nak’ma –”

  At that same instant, the doors to the governor’s office burst open, followed by a bellowing cry.

  “Seize her!”

  Maurin quickly glances to the doors and sees the governor’s aid as well as several of the Guardians of Soroth dashing across the room toward her.

  Without hesitation, Maurin darts toward the nearest of the large windows in the office and utters a sharp sound, causing light blue-almost-white magic to gather in her free palm. Just before she reaches the grand window, Maurin quickly thrusts her hand forward and the magic explosively bursts through the glass.

  Once she reaches the edge of the newly formed opening, Maurin leaps through the broken pane and acrobatically tumbles through the air. Amid her graceful fall, Maurin catches a glimpse of the guards who have abruptly stopped at the edge of the shattered window.

  Just before she lands upon the ground, Maurin utters the sharp word, “Sium!”

  As the word leaves her lips she instantly disappears within a veil of magic.

  1

  Investigation

  Sunlight beams through the temperate forest of Melar as Cornar, Kalder and Nordal drag a large creature along one of the many paths around the Aquinn Grove Retreat. They walk side by side through the mixture of tropical and temperate trees, with Cornar in the center.

  Each of the three warriors are dressed in green and brown clothing, with the colors woven together to create a camouflaging attire. Their bows and mostly empty quivers are hoisted upon their backs; while their weapons hang from their belts with the exception of Kalder, who has his large sword hoisted beneath his bow.

  The three warriors’ show signs of their rugged lifestyle; Cornar’s beard has grown long while Kalder and Nordal’s once smooth faces have thick hair covering their features. Nordal’s wavy dark brown hair has grown and completely covers his ears and reaches partway down his neck while Cornar and Kalder’s hang slightly over their ears.

  As they walk through the blended forest with the wild game behind them, the three warriors cheerfully talk and banter amongst themselves.

  “It’s too bad Karenna is not here,” Kalder smiles as he looks to Cornar. “I would love to see the look on her face if she saw you right now.”

  Cornar bursts into loud laughter in reply then says between chuckles, “I doubt I could ever convince her to come to a place like this. At least not long enough for me to grow out my beard. She’s too much of a city woman.”

  “She’s not the only one. I would hate to do this for a living,” Nordal grumbles and shakes his head in an attempt to move his overgrown strands of hair from his eyes.

  “We go on adventures like this all the time,” Kalder remarks. “Besides, it hasn’t been that long. Master Iltar has only been gone a little over a month.”

  “Yea…” Nordal glances to Kalder, “But we bring provisions with us.”

  “At least you don’t have to butcher it,” Cornar grins at Nordal.

  “I actually wouldn’t mind that,” Nordal nods his head.

  Kalder grins and the three warriors emerge from the edge of the forest and step into the large Aquinn Grove.

  “I’m serious,” Nordal remarks as he and the others drag their freshly caught game across the grassy floor of the grove. “I’m missing the action. When are we going to resume this adventure?”

  “Soon,” Cornar responds, “Once Iltar returns.”

  “From where?” Nordal asks in an intrigued tone.

  Kalder looks at Cornar with a raised brow then asks, “You didn’t tell anyone else?”

  “Not yet,” Cornar succinctly replies as the three warriors approach the complex of the Aquinn Grove Retreat from its southern end, walking straightway for a squared two story building.

  A portion of the first floor protrudes from the western side of the building with a single opened doorway on its southern wall. Above the doorway upon a carved wooden plank, written in the common language of Kalda, are the etched words, “Lodge Butchery.”

  “I’ll take it in,” Kalder grunts and the two other warriors let go of the ropes tied around the animal. Kalder steps through the doorway, leaving Cornar and Nordal alone outside.

  “That should last us until the next week,” Cornar smiles and wipes his hands together
.

  “Cor, what haven’t you told us?” Nordal asks in a hushed tone, “I figured we’re searching for the amulet the former Necrotic Order was after. Why else would we go to Merda?”

  Cornar glances to the open door, over each of his shoulders then motions for Nordal to follow him. Once they are a short distance away from the building, Cornar wraps his arm around Nordal’s shoulder and whispers to the younger warrior.

  “Iltar went to Alath, in search of a magical scroll which will awaken the amulet. The mages are keeping it, according to an address we found in Merda.”

  “So the amulet was there,” Nordal pleasantly mutters, “Do we know where that ruby and portal stone are at?”

  “No,” Cornar shakes his head, “Iltar was hoping to find more clues in Alath.”

  “Now you have me excited,” Nordal smirks then asks, “Who else knows about this?”

  “The more senior mages, Tilthan, Nath and Kalder,” Cornar replies then looks around the grove in front of the retreat’s buildings. “I’m sure the others suspect what we’re really doing on this adventure, especially those who didn’t go to the dragon’s isle; however, no one has asked.”

  “They wouldn’t,” Nordal snickers, “We all trust you with our lives. You don’t need to tell us.”

  “I know,” Cornar sighs and lets go of Nordal, “And that scares me.”

  The younger warrior inquisitively raises his brow when Kalder calls out from behind him and Cornar.

  “The butcher said he’ll be finished in a few hours.”

  “Well I could use a drink,” Nordal says and looks at Cornar then Kalder, “Do you want to join me?”

  “I’m going to go clean up and rest until he’s done,” Cornar shakes his head. “Let’s eat in the banquet hall tonight. The two of you go tell everyone else.”

  Kalder simply nods his head and the three warriors make their way toward the entry of the retreat’s main building.

  Once inside the three story high foyer of the lodge, Kalder and Nordal turn to the right after entering the reception area, while Cornar walks past the inn keeper’s desk and toward the stairs at the far end of the foyer.

  “Did you have a good hunt?” the chubby dark haired inn keeper asks while writing upon a piece of parchment.

  “Yes,” Cornar tiredly responds without looking back. “I’d also like to reserve the south banquet hall for dinner for my friends and I.”

  “I will mark that down,” the inn keeper calls out and turns to another piece of parchment on his desk.

  As Cornar casually climbs the stairs to the second story balcony, he catches a glimpse of Demsal and Aron talking with several other patrons in the courtyard just beyond the rear wall of the foyer. The two warriors are dressed in similar camouflaged clothing as Cornar with their bow strapped to their back.

  Cornar tiredly ascends the last step and turns to his left, entering the doorway at the end of the balcony which leads to the northern wing of the lodge. Cornar then quietly mutters to himself, “How long are you going to keep us waiting Iltar?”

  The elder warrior steps several phineals into the hallway and turns toward a narrow landing at the base of the stairwell leading to the third story. Once he is up the stairs, Cornar un-slings his bow and slowly makes his way down the short corridor which intersects the hallway where his suite is located.

  As he turns the corner, Cornar notices a tall man closing the door to the suite nearest the hallway intersection. He stands almost as tall as Cornar and is of a slim muscular build, dressed in a light colored casual garb with a brown cloak and cowl over his shoulders. Long wavy blonde hair bounces as he turns his head and notices the warrior coming around the corner. His left hand is clenched behind his back while his right closes the door.

  “What was he doing in my suite?” the warrior wonders to himself and continues his slow gait, all the while retaining a calm composure.

  “Good afternoon,” the intruder smiles and his light grey-lavender eyes focus on Cornar’s face then briefly shifts to his weapons hoisted upon his belt.

  “New here?” Cornar asks with a feigned smile and he slowly passes the intruder. “What’s your name?”

  “Yes, and you can call me Credal.”

  “Well if you need anything I’m down the hall,” Cornar says and points to the last suite at the end of the hallway.

  “Thank you,” Credal bows his head slightly, all the while keeping an eye on the warrior. “Perhaps we can talk later.”

  “Sure,” Cornar grins at the intruder then continues walking and thinks to himself, “I wonder who he is, and how did he get into the suite?”

  As the warrior continues down the hall, he can hear Credal’s footsteps moving in the opposite direction as well as a soft muttering of words he cannot clearly hear.

  “An incantation!” Cornar thinks to himself then swiftly reaches for an arrow within the quiver upon his back. With incredible speed, Cornar notches the arrow in his bow and turns around. His eyes widen in surprise as he lets the arrow loose while he turns to face Credal.

  At the opposite end of the hall, Credal has moved into a wide stance with his left hand outstretched. An orange sphere of condensed light erupts into magical flame as the arrow sails through the air. Credal swiftly moves his hand toward the arrow and the magic in his grasp consumes it.

  Without hesitation, Cornar quickly notches another arrow, the last in his quiver, and takes aim directly at Credal’s chest.

  The intruding mage waves his left hand in front of his chest as Cornar’s second arrow sings through the air. He then thrusts the fiery magic forward, causing a portion of the mystical flame to fly across the hallway and consume the arrow.

  Seeing the fiery energies racing from the mage, Cornar drops his bow and darts forward toward the magic.

  Just before the magic reaches him, the warrior throws himself forward in a rolling motion, crossing his arms toward the hilts of his weapons and rolling forward over his right shoulder. The fiery burst flies over Cornar as he quickly tumbles across the floor. He rolls up onto his feet two phineals in front of Credal and wildly draws both his serrated dagger and short sword from their sheathes. The blades sing through the air in an extended cutting motion as the warrior straightens up and leaps forward; All this happening within a second.

  Credal jumps backward in surprise and raises both of his hands above his shoulders while he begins uttering the words of a magical incantation; however, Cornar’s short sword cuts through the mage’s loose tunic, interrupting him.

  As the sharp blade cuts the fibers of the tunic, it reveals a hidden pocket within.

  Two objects fall out of the pocket as Credal stumbles backward from his evasion of Cornar’s weapons; a small rogulin crystal, and the smooth dark polished shallow dome shaped conjuration anchor.

  Cornar’s eyes focus on the objects as they fall through the air and he rebounds for another leaping assault toward the intruding mage.

  Both objects hit the ground and Credal pulls back with his left hand and swings his other in a closed fist toward Cornar.

  The warrior swiftly dodges out of the way and catches a glimpse of a silver ring with a dark blue gem inlayed within its center on the mage’s forefinger. However, as he evades Credal’s punch, Cornar is struck in the back by the fiery magic that had previously been flung at him.

  Letting out an agonizing scream, Cornar throws himself backward and rolls on the ground from side to side in an attempt to put out the fire, temporarily ending the quick exchange which took place over a few seconds.

  Credal heavily sighs then quickly reaches down for the rogulin crystal and conjuration anchor then slides them into a pocket along the side of his pants. He then resumes reciting the incantation he had previously attempted to utter.

  Green magic swirls about his right hand which he then flings at Cornar who is still rolling on the ground. The magical energies take shape and form green tentacles which grasp the warrior and bind him to the floor upon his back.

&nb
sp; The intruding mage looks down at the struggling warrior and with a disappointed expression across his face he says, “So you’re Cornar. You’re coming back with m–”

  Credal is interrupted by a wave of blue watery magic rushing across the hall and washing over Cornar. In response, the intruding mage quickly looks up and further down the corridor.

  Standing at the far end of the hallway at the base of a squared stairwell which leads to the lower levels of the suite wing is Hex; the masterful wizard has his hand stretched out, revealing him to be the one who had flung the magic. Hex hastily utters the words of another spell and a fiery sphere erupts about his person.

  Credal narrows his brow and speaks the words to another incantation. Purple magic gathers in his hands and three pulsing orbs take shape. He then waves his left hand across his chest and the fiery magic in that hand spreads across the area just in front of him, creating a flaming barrier of protection.

  Just as the intruding mage casts the spell, Hex has mustered another of his own and a dark cloud of surging electrical magic dances immediately beyond his fiery protective sphere.

  As the magic take shape, the lightening streaks through the hallway toward Credal, but the intruding mage swiftly dodges it and flings one of his purple orbs toward Hex.

  While the two mages are attacking each other with their spells, Menal and Midar hastily round the corner of the hallway. Both warriors are dressed in plain clothes and have neither weapons nor armor. They briefly look at each other then rush to join the battle.

  Menal quickly dashes from the corner and lunges toward Credal, tackling him to the ground and jarring him away from his flaming shield. Both mage and warrior wrestle each other on the hallway floor and Credal lets out an angered yell of frustration then thrusts one of the orbs in his hand toward Menal, but the warrior notices the movement and rolls off the mage. The purplish magic races past Menal, dissolving a portion of his tunic and tearing through the ceiling of the hallway.

  Meanwhile, Midar runs to Cornar’s side, grabs the magical tentacles and attempts to pull them from his mentor to no avail.