Severed Destinies (21 page)

It is time.

“
Yes, my lord.”

Remember, Sephonis, that this gateway is to be used by no other person than yourself. Should anyone else pass through, they will be slain.

“
I understand. My lord, should Commander Draliak inquire as to the gateway, what would you have me tell him?”

Tell him that the portal has been created to allow my link with you to be stronger and to allow you to return to Shada-Kaviel whenever I order you to. This is truthful, but he must not be permitted to know of the third reason. He distrusts anything from beyond this realm of understanding.

“
Indeed he does. Balthus is with him for the attack on the river fortress and this alone unsettles him.”

Let us hope that your young invoker does not act so rashly this time, Sephonis.

“
Bearing the scar from the Rotian blade is his punishment, my lord. If any prisoners are taken from the fortress, should they be sent to Shada-Kaviel on the ships as the others were?”

Any other prisoners are to be held there. The slaves from the Rotian towns and port city will suffice for now. I will need prisoners for the transition.

“
When will the transition start, my lord, if I may ask?”

Once the Rotian people are enslaved, then my minions from the realm beyond will arrive. The Rotian Kingdom will be theirs’ and swiftly we will spread across the other lands. No more will they suffer the dead lands where they currently reside. The Rotian Kingdom will provide them with the energy they need to become the force they once were. This is but the first of many lands, Sephonis. We will prevail.

“
We will, my lord.”

Begin the incantation.

“
He was like this when you found him?” Khir asked Varayan.

Varayan nodded slowly. “His scream woke me.” He had heard the acolyte cry out in pain and, having found Rynn unconscious on the floor of the barracks, he had ran to find help.

Khir glanced at the others crouched around Rynn and then back to the acolyte’s pale face. At first, they had thought him dead when they had looked upon him but they were relieved to see the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“
I do not understand what has happened here,” frowned Kithia.

“
His footlocker was open and I found what seemed to be ash next to him,” added Varayan.

“
Ash?” Ilkar stood by the window, looking thoughtfully down at Rynn. “He had burnt something?”

“
I didn’t smell smoke,” Varayan replied. “It was as if a parchment had…” He suddenly moved to the open locker and peered inside.

“
What is it?” asked Gorric, whose anger from his earlier talk with Sarin had changed to concern for his companion now lying before him.

Varayan sighed. “When Rynn and I went to his temple in Boraila, he found two scrolls that he was very persistent on bringing back. There is only one now.”

“
I wonder,” came Ilkar’s voice and the other four looked across at the corporal. “I had heard stories in Boraila about the magics that some of the clerics used and one such story involved these being bound into scrolls so that they could be learnt. I was always told that these scrolls could not be read by anyone but the more experienced clerics and that doing so could damage a person’s mind. Perhaps our young friend here stumbled across two of these scrolls and foolishly sought to read one.”

Khir shared a shocked glance with Gorric. “That doesn’t explain the ash though, does it?”

“
Maybe the scroll burst into flame as he read it,” shrugged Varayan, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

“
He can’t be moved in this state,” Kithia said to Ilkar.

The corporal shifted uncomfortably. “I’m afraid the captain’s order stands. Rynn is light and will be easy to carry. I will have two of the men bring him to the pier and place him in the boat for you.”

Kithia gave Gorric a pleading look, which he recalled from many times past. “My sister is right. He should not be moved until we know the extent of his injury.”

Ilkar sighed. “I understand your concerns and I share them but I have to see you safely away from here and…”

A groan caused Ilkar to stop and they all looked down at Rynn. The acolytes’ eyes were open but not focused.

“
Rynn?” said Kithia softly, leaning down close to his face. “Can you hear me?”

Rynn seemed startled by her voice and he looked at her face but they could all tell that he was unable to see her clearly. Very shakily, he tried to speak. “What….happened?”

“
We were hoping you could tell us,” smiled Kithia, running a hand across his brow.

As Rynn slowly recovered, Ilkar placed a hand on Gorric’s shoulder.

“
Well, it seems that you will be leaving as scheduled now.” He handed Gorric two bound parchments. “This first is a message that you are to give to a man named Cullen on the south bank of the river so that he will see you safely away and south to Vylandor. The other parchment is the captain’s personal message to the king, which you are to deliver.”

“
What if Vylandor is not where we wish to go?” asked Gorric.

Ilkar shook his head. “King Afaron and the council will want to speak with you as a survivor of the attacks. Captain Sarin told me that the five of you are to be considered the most important Rotians alive at this time. You hold information about these invaders that nobody else does, Gorric.”

“
As do you.”

“
I fought a single battle against them in order to allow Rynn and Varayan to escape. I cannot even recall most of what happened now as it was over so quickly. No, my place is here alongside the men I have served with for so long.”

“
I am loathed to leave Turambar.”

“
Believe me, Gorric, when I say that you will best serve the Rotian Kingdom by reaching Vylandor alive and as soon as possible.”

Gorric nodded reluctantly. “We will gather our belongings and be ready to depart soon.”

Chapter 18

Saroth looked up at the high wall of Turambar and his eyes quickly scanned the stonework, noting the small imperfections that he could use to his advantage. He had stood at the base of the eastern wall before, when he had first studied the patterns of the Turambar patrols. He had found that this wall was easier to scale than the others. To any other, the simple straight walls of the fortress would have all looked the same but Saroth had entered many buildings in the same fashion and his experience was unique.

In his mind, he imagined the route he needed to take. Once he had reached the top, he could make his way along the battlements to the north wall and move down the steps leading to one of the doors into the room which held the gate release. The obstacle he faced was reaching that room without being seen by the heavy number of soldiers who now walked the walls. Somehow, the Rotians knew that something was going to happen and this had concerned him slightly. The Shada-Kavielians would still crush this guardpost but it made his task more complicated than anticipated.

Saroth drew in a deep breath of the night air and, as he released it, he leapt up quietly and began his climb. With an almost unnatural ability, he quickly scaled the east wall. His fingers gripped the slightest niches in the stonework and his strength allowed him to pull himself up without much effort. To anyone watching below, he would have been likened to a black spider effortlessly moving up the wall.

As he climbed, he recalled the only other potential way into Turambar, which was a water-filled tunnel heading under the fortress. An old portcullis had been lowered in place and looked as if it had not been raised in many years so he had dismissed this as a feasible means to gain entry to the interior. Even if the portcullis had not been there, he still would have been loathed to swim through the tunnel in the cold water. This route was a much better option and offered him more of a challenge.

As he neared the top of the wall, he heard the footsteps of one of the soldiers moving above and waited. As the sound of the soldiers’ boots on the stone moved away slightly, Saroth peered over the wall and down onto the battlements just below. His expression remained unchanged when he saw the line of Rotian soldiers. Quickly, he cast his eyes across the fortress and noted that the east wall was not as heavily manned as the north and west. It would still be a major challenge to him though. The light from the lanterns within the fortress illuminated most of the structure’s courtyard and interior walls but there was an area just to his right that stayed in shadow.

Swiftly, Saroth moved nearer to this part of the wall and, when he was certain no soldiers were moving past, he pulled himself up and swung over the east wall, landing silently on the battlements. Rotians were moving towards his position on either side and the steps leading to the door he needed to reach were tantalisingly close. He knew that his clothing would conceal him in the shadows, as it had been designed to do, but even a rotian would discover him if near enough. Instinctively, Saroth crouched low and glanced down into Turambar’s courtyard. A short drop below him was the roof of one of the interior buildings. On first inspection, he believed it to be a large stable to house the Rotian steeds. Still moving silently, he slid from the battlements and hung for a split second before dropping to the roof. His boots made the slightest sound as they connected with the wood but it was not loud enough to be heard by the soldiers. With long strides, the Shada-Kavielian moved along the roof towards the northern wall of the fortress until he reached the edge. He had two choices; climb back up onto the battlements or try to reach the steps from where he stood.

Above him, he could hear two of the soldiers talking to one another and he remained crouched on the stable roof for a moment longer, his mind working fast to show all advantages and disadvantages of his two options. As he came to his decision, he heard movement from the courtyard and, looking across, he saw six Rotians making their way towards the south wall. A soldier walked before them and the strange fact that Saroth noted was that the other five were very young and seemed out of place within the confines of the fortress.

He quickly returned to the task at hand and lowered himself down from the stable roof to the ground, crouching as he landed and staying in the shadows. This corner of the fortress it seemed was dimly lit and he found it simple moving pressed against the east wall until he stood below the steps and the door. He watched the soldiers patrolling for a moment and then timed his leap to perfection, catching the edge of the steps and hauling himself up before any of them could see. Realising he needed to move fast, Saroth headed to the door and moved through it, closing it quietly behind him and then listening against it. No alarms were raised and he took in a breath of satisfaction.

Unsheathing a long knife from his belt, he looked over his shoulder. He was stood in a narrow corridor that was unlit but the illumination from a doorway ahead could be seen and the sound of Rotian voices echoed from within. Saroth edged along the wall and peered around the frame of the doorway. He saw a long yet thin chamber where two Rotian soldiers stood talking together near to the gate’s mechanism. The heavy wheels that needed to be turned were locked in place by a bar of metal. The fact that it took more than one Rotian to turn a wheel and open the gate was of no consequence to him. His focus was now on swiftly dealing with the two men who stood between him and the mechanism.

He watched the soldiers for a moment and, when they both turned away from the doorway, Saroth took his chance. Quickly, he slipped into the room and moved directly for the rotian nearest to him. The distance between doorway and soldier was not great and, as he reached the young, dark-haired rotian, Saroth gauged how close the second man was. He pulled the soldier’s head back and cut his throat with brutal precision. As his companion turned, seeing the sudden movement, Saroth flicked his wrist and the long knife flew from his grasp, taking the man in the eye.

Leaving his blade, he turned his attention to the gate mechanism. He was certain that, by this time, the commander and his men were ready to charge through the open gates of Turambar and he was looking forward to being involved in the battle this time. So far, Sephonis had used him for information gathering and scouting missions. He had been forced to miss the destruction of Barentin and Tamriel, plus had been ordered to watch the roads from Boraila rather than entering the city during the invasion. Here, in this doomed Rotian fortress, Saroth would finally be able to practise the arts he learnt back in Shada-Kaviel to greater effect.

Gorric glanced back over his shoulder as he followed Ilkar down a spiraling flight of steps below the south wall of the fortress. Behind him, he could see Khir’s thoughtful expression in the dim lantern light. He had made no time to speak with his best friend since their arrival at Turambar and felt the pangs of guilt gnawing at him. It was difficult to say what the future now held for them, but Gorric was determined to make time on the journey to Vylandor to talk with Khir. The bond of friendship between them had kept Gorric from losing his mind after the events of the recent days.

“
Keep up,” called Ilkar, reaching the base of the steps and moving swiftly south along a narrow tunnel.

They followed the corporal through the labyrinth-like corridors until a cool breeze hit their faces. A moment later and they could all hear the gentle lapping of water. Finally, they emerged into a small subterranean dock below Turambar. Two wooden piers had been constructed and several small rowboats were moored.