Treachery in the Kingdom Read online

Hagen looks to Cornar briefly and the warrior squints his right eye. He glances to the illusionist then nods his head.

  “Why does Los want to fight Soroth?” Hagen blurts out as he turns to the two patrons in feigned ignorance.

  Both of the men look at the short illusionist with puzzled expressions upon their faces. The nearest shakes his head and lightly chuckles while the other speaks up.

  “Where have you been? Everybody knows.”

  “We’re not from here…” Hagen points to himself then Cornar. “We just arrived today.”

  “And the guards didn’t tell you?” the nearest patron laughs.

  “No,” Hagen shakes his head.

  “Last week a necromancer from Soroth started murdering hundreds of people,” the furthest patron remarks. “He even killed little children. I heard their bodies were so mangled with magic that their loved ones couldn’t recognize them.”

  Cornar and Hagen quietly listen as both patrons recount the tale.

  “People say that he was everywhere, probably some illusionary magic, and that he created his own undead army to combat the mages of our city. But he was stopped by many of the leading mages. Some even say that a hero appeared, flying through the air upon a dragon and wielding the Mage-King’s Scepter.”

  “What?” Hagen stammers, “There was a dragon in the city?”

  “That’s what they say,” the furthest patron remarks.

  “I heard that some people said it truly was Dorin, that he’s risen from the dead to strike down the evil in our world.”

  “That’s impossible,” Hagen shakes his head.

  “Well he was a mage,” the nearest patron says slyly with a smile. “Perhaps he only went into a deep slumber all those years ago and recently awoke.”

  “Yes, just like in that play. Oh what was it called?”

  “And what of this necromancer?” Cornar changes the direction of the conversation. “What happened to him?”

  “He’s going to be put on trial tomorrow,” the furthest patron answers. “In the Grand Auditorium of Sildan. It will be open to the public, you should go see it. We are.”

  “It’s history,” the nearest patrons smiles. “I can tell my children and my grandchildren that I cried out the verdict for the one who committed the Alathian Massacre.”

  “Where is this auditorium?” Cornar earnestly asks.

  “Inside the Estate, on the northern end. That’s just beyond those towering white walls and at the very center of the city upon a mound.”

  Hagen silently turns to Cornar with a horrific expression across his face. He slowly shakes his head at the thought of being near the Mages of Alath.

  “You better leave tonight though,” the nearest patron says and grabs a large stein in front of him. “The Kingdom Guard is taking extra precautions at the inner city’s gates. Normally you can just walk through, but I heard they’re casting dispelling magic on anyone who enters.”

  Just as the patron finishes speaking, the barkeep comes up to Cornar and Hagen then places two long waxy rolls in front of the disguised companions. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you,” Cornar reaches into his tunic and pulls a small coin purse from it. He places two tingarins on the counter of the bar then stands up, grabbing both rolls. “Let’s go my friend.”

  “What?” Hagen jumps at Cornar’s beckoning.

  The warrior walks across the room with Hagen close behind and the barkeep calls out, “Don’t you want your spare specie?”

  “Keep it,” Cornar says as he reaches the door then he and Hagen step out into the street.

  “No,” Hagen stammers as they step away from the tavern. “You can’t seriously be thinking of going there, are you?”

  “It’s the fastest way to figure out what is going to happen to him,” Cornar remarks and points across the street to an alley between two of the tall homes. “Let’s eat and figure out where we are going to sleep tonight.”

  Once the two companions cross the street, Hagen briefly stops at a lamp post with several pieces of parchment attached to the post at eyelevel. The illusionist’s eyes widen as he stares at a sketched drawing of a man resembling Cornar.

  Above the image it reads, “Guilty of working in collusion with Iltar, son of Adrin. Cornar Doleshir.” Beneath the image of the aged warrior it reads, “Often carries a serrated dagger and short sword.”

  “Ah, ah!” Hagen stammers and motions to Cornar as well as pointing at the parchment.

  The warrior turns around at the sound of the illusionist’s stammering and walks back toward Hagen while asking, “What’s wrong?”

  “Look!” Hagen squeaks out in a high pitch.

  Cornar sighs at he glances at the parchment then peruses those hanging behind it.

  “This isn’t a good place to talk,” Cornar says then motions toward the alley he was originally walking toward.

  Hagen follows after him and Cornar hands him one of the rolls. Once partway down the alley Cornar stops and unwraps the waxy sheet and reveals a Krandos roll.

  “There are posts of everyone but Iltar and Nath,” Cornar whispers and takes a bite of the roll. “So Tilthan and Nemral got away.”

  “But where are they?” Hagen asks and hangs his head low. “This city is so big, they could be anywhere.”

  “I don’t think Tilthan is here,” Cornar remarks with a partially full mouth. “They would have ran and not looked back.

  “Great,” Hagen pouts, “And now we’ve lost two more of our companions.”

  Both Cornar and Hagen quietly finish their evening meal then continue down the alley.

  “How are we going to get past the guards, they’re going to dispel our illusions!”

  “We’ll find a way,” Cornar mutters, “Maybe we can scale the walls.”

  “Nah uh,” Hagen shakes his head, “Are you forgetting I am afraid of heights?”

  As they near an intersection between another alleyway a faint humming sound catches Cornar’s attention

  The warrior motions for Hagen to stop and both of them listen as the sound grows louder.

  Cornar softly steps forward and lowers himself behind a stack of two barrels on the left side of the alley.

  Hagen is close behind and as he nears Cornar he whispers, “What was tha–”

  The warrior quickly motions the back of his hand toward Hagen and interrupts him.

  Further around the corner to the right of the intersecting alleyway, on a building partially in front of the warrior and illusionist, a light colored grayish-green hue illuminates the alley.

  Cornar motions for Hagen to stay put, and the warrior crosses to the other side of the alley and slowly moves to the corner of the building hemming in that part of the narrow walkway. As he approaches he can hear sharp sounding words, neither common nor elvish, spoken by two deep voices.

  The warrior stops short of turning around the edge and he continues to listen. Not a moment later another voice can be heard further down the alley.

  “You there, what are you doing?”

  Cornar swiftly glances around the corner; just beyond the vantage point he and Hagen had from the barrels, the warrior can see an oval opening in one of the buildings which glows with the same grayish-green light. The opening rises from the floor of the alley, part way up a stone and brick foundation and rounds out along wooden siding. However, the surface within the opening is composed of a white stone.

  Standing just beyond the opening are two men. They are of taller than average height with muscular builds. Both of them are wearing black formfitting garbs with ornate swords hoisted upon their backs. The hilts of the weapons are made out of pure gold with elaborate pointed designs. Shiny black scabbards with similar intricate golden designs swirl from the hilts down to the tip.

  Just beyond them is another man dressed in an informal tunic and matching pants, as he walks toward the two men he continues asking about the situation.

  “Why is there a hole in that wall?”

  One of the black
clothed men steps away from the oval opening and toward the one spewing forth questions.

  “Are you just going to stare at me? I asked you what–”

  The inquisitive stranger stops in the middle of his gait, all the while looking directly at the man clothed in black. A moment of silence passes when the mysterious man in black turns his head away and the stranger shakes himself.

  “Uh, what was I saying?”

  “You were wondering where to find supplies to patch that hole in your wall,” the man clothed in black sighs. “I told you, I don’t know.”

  “Right,” the once inquisitive stranger nods his head and turns around. “Maybe this way.”

  Cornar quietly watches the scene and the strange man in black turns around. Seeing this, the warrior quickly recoils behind the wall. As he takes cover he can hear both of the men conversing in the common tongue.

  “That was close,” one of the men states with a sigh.

  “Yes, but where shall we look now? He was not in Dorith’s home nor at the Estate.”

  “It’s possible that we missed him escape the inner city.”

  “How? There was no indication that he passed through the trans-tubes, and from what we just saw nothing had been activated in decades. Besides, we have been watching each of the gates and the transportium hasn’t been used.”

  “He wouldn’t dare travel through the transportium,” one of the men chuckles. “There is a possibility that he is within the inner depths. After all it was the only place we couldn’t search within the Estate without being noticed.”

  “Perhaps, and that is most likely where the mages are keeping that necromancer.”

  Cornar is surprised at the conversation and continues to listen with a greater sense of intrigue.

  “It’s not like Zanxsthy’ll to hide. He might already be halfway to Merdan by now, and we would have been chasing our scaled tails for nothing.”

  “Enough with the innuendos, someone might hear you.”

  “What would it matter, they would not understand.”

  “Come, let’s go hide in the Estate and wait until Dorith opens the inner depths.”

  “Fine,” one of the men responds and utters a phrase, “Ninda Shre Tolinsura.”

  The same humming sound heard by the warrior and illusionist lightly resonates within the alley and the grayish-green light dims out.

  Cornar can hear both of the men walking further down the alley and he rehearses the three words in his head. After a moment he walks back to Hagen who is still crouching behind the barrels.

  “What was that?!” Hagen asks with a strained expression of suspense on his face.

  “Come with me,” Cornar motions with his head, “I think I found us a place to stay the night.”

  The two companions in adventure walk back toward the spot where the magical illumination was and the warrior speaks the words spoken by the two mysterious black clothed men.

  “Ninda Shre Tolinsura.”

  At the sound of the words, the grayish-green light forms and is accompanied by the resonating hum. After a moment, a oval outline takes shape and the walls of the building compress together and slide open.

  “What…” Hagen’s jaw drops, “But that’s wood and… brick.”

  “I think it’s an illusion or transmutation,” Cornar remarks and points to the white stone along the inner edge of the opening, “See? That’s not wood nor brick.”

  The oval opening before the warrior and illusionist is over ten phineals wide. Just beyond the gapping threshold the space is completely dark.

  “Oh,” Hagen remarks, “Then that’s why the moonlight isn’t shining through.”

  “I’ll go first,” Cornar says and moves toward the veil of blackness.

  As the warrior steps through, a small squared room opens up before him, nearly ten phineals wide and deep. Its walls and floors are made out of the same material which lined the opening and is seamlessly smooth. The room is brightly lit from a glow radiating from the stone walls, floor and ceiling.

  At the far end of the small space is an opening to a stairwell which is mostly darkened, yet the light from the squared room spills just beyond the first few steps and partially illuminates it.

  “Whoa!” Hagen gasps as he comes to Cornar’s side. “It’s like we’re back in Merda.”

  “We should close that wall,” Cornar turns around, “Ninda Shre Tolinsura.”

  The same hum resonates within the small stone chamber and the stone within the edge of the opening slides together and expands.

  “Are you sure that was wise?” Hagen squeaks out and swallows hard.

  “I’m not going to forget those words,” Cornar smiles and walks toward the stairs. “Let’s see where this leads, I want to find a comfortable spot to rest for the night. Then, perhaps after we rest we can figure out a way into the inner city.”

  Hagen reluctantly follows Cornar and they both descend the darkened stairwell. As they descend the stairs each of the steps, as well as the walls and ceiling immediately around it, become illuminated with light glowing from the stone surface.

  “Just like in that cave in Merda,” Cornar mutters. “What is this place?”

  The warrior and illusionist descend the equivalent of eight stories when the bottom of the steps stops at another darkened space.

  “I don’t like this… I, I…” Hagen stammers and slowly wobbles behind the warrior, “I feel sick!”

  “Quiet Hagen,” Cornar says and descends the last step. Immediately before him a similar room to the one they had originally entered becomes illuminated. There is a large arched opening directly in front of the stairs which is also pitch black.

  The warrior and illusionist silently continue through the darkened threshold and a large rectangular room brightly comes to light. It measures sixty phineals deep and one hundred and eighty wide. The space is devoid of any furniture or architectural obstacles. Its ceiling is of an inverted shallow dome shape.

  Along the wall where the threshold containing the landing and stairs are other similarly sized openings; however, a wall of brownish colored stone covers the archways a fraction of a phineal inside the threshold. Similar openings within the walls on either side of the space are also covered up, totaling ten archways; including the opening from where the illusionist and warrior had just emerged.

  Upon the wall directly in front of the stairs are two oval outlines etched into the wall nearly ten phineals across. They glow with a faint grayish-green illumination. Further to the left of the outlines is another darkened corridor nearly forty five phineals wide and beyond that two other identical glowing etchings.

  “Those look like what Kalder described he saw atop that towering building in Merda,” Cornar remarks as he looks at the glowing oval etchings in front of him.

  “Is that bad?!” Hagen blurts out.

  “He said that he descended a lift of sorts, like what we used in the fortress to descend to the lower depths of the pyramid. But let’s go to that wide corridor.”

  Cornar hastily makes his way across the room and Hagen trails behind, cautiously looking around the space.

  “Hagen,” Cornar calls out and the illusionist quickly follows after Cornar who is now standing just in front of the darkened wide corridor.

  Both companions in adventure step into the broad corridor and magical light erupts from the walls and illuminates the corridor. Along the walls of the wide hallways are floor to ceiling niches with strikingly real images depicting various scenery.

  “Those scenes look so real,” Hagen gawks at the niches as he and Cornar continue down the broad corridor.

  “I don’t recognize many of them, but I am guessing this is from long ago.”

  “How old do you think?” Hagen asks.

  “Well,” Cornar looks to the short illusionist, “As we were descending the stairs I was thinking; the letter we found in Merda with the amulet housing had hinted that Alath was the last place of the former human civilization that was untouched by
the war with Karthar.

  “This is probably something left over from that time.”

  “Preserved like those tunnels leading to the towers in the fortress,” Hagen recalls.

  “Exactly.”

  Once Cornar and Hagen cross to the end of the corridor they come to a somewhat large and opened landing; intricate stone rails line the sides of the corridor, their balusters and newels of intricate design, some of which have exotic flowers and vines wrapping around them in a protruding fashion.

  As both warrior and illusionist step across the landing it illuminates in like manner to the rest of the underground passages and rooms. Nearly ten phineals in front of the pair are three steps, which lead to another landing with a curving railing at the far end and two pairs of stairwells on either side.

  Cornar and Hagen both descend the short steps and come upon the landing, which immediately becomes lit. They step up to the curving railing in front of them where a grand view opens up before them.

  “Oh my,” Hagen stammers while Cornar silently gazes out at the majestic scene.

  In reaction to the two companions’ presence, an enormous room beyond the railing becomes visible. It measures over two hundred and fifty phineals wide by a hundred and forty deep. It’s ceiling rises forty five phineals above its floor in a shallow inverted dome shape; The base of the landing where Cornar and Hagen are standing is just under twelve phineals beneath the ceiling.

  Six pillars line the enormous room in rows of three; upon each of their surfaces are the emblems denoting the various schools of Alath’s Estate of Concorious Knowledge. The pillars reach nearly to the ceiling but do not touch it.

  Further beyond the pillars is another darkened chamber, the opening leading to it spanning the whole opposite side of the room.

  “Let’s go down,” Cornar motions to the stairs at their left.

  “I can’t look!” Hagen mutters and closes his eyes as he grasps the intricate railing.

  The stairs descend for nearly four stories with opened sides, allowing a view to the enormous chamber on the right and a wide hallway on the left. The steps come to a squared landing and the warrior turns to his right and enters the enormous space.

  Hagen lets out a deep breath then follows after Cornar who is already partway across the room.