The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (25 page)

“Your Majesty, I do not know-“

“However, I have one request.” Richmond held his hand to his face and pulled the scroll to his chest, trying to cover his false guilt and shame.

“Anything Richmond, I understand this must be difficult.” Javiel could feel his position in the kingdom and the church rising with every moment.

“When Savanno comes to rescue the queen, come and get me out of here. I wish to see her one last time, and to see my most loyal knight take her to safety far from this place. Whatever you can do to ensure they escape, I would appreciate it. My rule is over, and I hope that the two of them find peace outside this political
storm that has befallen me.” Richmond the Second burst into slobbering tears as he handed the scroll to the bishop, and returned to the bed to lay his face in the pillows.

“And where will you go, your majesty?” Javiel put the scroll into his white and red robes, up the loose sleeves to keep it hidden.

“My family has several small manors in Shanador and the free lands of Willborne, I will find peace there myself. Take the rest
of the scrolls there as well.” h
e pointed to the open drawer. “They are orders to Wynnegarde, Devonmir, and Saint Erinsburg to pay their loyalty to the church and inform them of my resigned state and abandonment of the throne. They will empower you and those loyal to the kingdom to see this transition through and remove Seneschal Florin from power in my absence.”

“Whom do I ask to assist in freeing you and keeping myself protected, my king?
I am unsure of who has loyalty to whom.” t
he bishop took the scrolls, having no intention of getting them to the proper place, for he had the only one he needed. He would take power over the capital city, and therefore the kingdom without the aid of the outlying domains.

“Sir Sulian is loyal, as is Sir Karai. Both are pious and serve the church as much as the kingdom. They will listen to you and to Savanno when he comes for Rosana. They will keep you safe from any men loyal to Florin. Now go, and do not forget me, Javiel.
I hope to see you restore the glory to Harlaheim that I failed to bring, and do not call me your king. I am Richmond L’Herrim
the Second, nothing more now.” t
he young king lay still on the bed, with a look of defeat and depression that could not have been more convincing.

“I will see to it that you, Savanno, and the queen are take
n from here when the time comes, if that time comes.
I vow before Alden to maintain the power of the church in the city as best I can, Richmond.” Javiel bowed, and turned to leave.

“Wait bishop, one more thing.” The young deposed king rose and stepped over to his elaborate shelves, pulled one of the books which opened a painting on the far side of the chamber. He walked toward it, reached in, and held his crown. Gold and sapphire, shining in the torchlight like a holy relic from heaven itself. “Do not let Florin take this from me. Wear it if you must, hide it, but do not let her wear my crown.”

Javiel was lost for words, yet took the symbol of the kingdom, the crown of Richmond, and placed it in his sleeves with the scrolls. “I will guard it with my life your highness, umm…sire…Richmond.”

“Go with God Javiel, and God save Harlaheim.”

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The cold night air washed over the quiet men in the courtyard of the tower as they rested. It had been two hours since the last barrage from the standing army of Harlaheim that surrounded the twenty story
structure. Capitan Jean-Ris knew that three of the four gates now held statues of soldiers that had been turned to stone in attempt to charge through. At least thirty men of the army now led by Sir Sebastian had died, but not one from anything he had done. His gray guards and wizards he was commanding had not fired one shot, nor taken offense against the army yet. It had been almost over two days since the siege began, and still the barriers of arcane force, sparking electricity, walls of flame, and mists of deadly magic held in place from Kalzarius.

“None of the
other knights are here, nor is F
lorin present, master.” Cilano looked across at the army
in standing formation, loading catapults and ballistae as the sun set in the east behind the tower. The western horizon was dark, lit only by the white reflection of Carice and the sliver of crescent Gimmor peering from the Bori Mountains far across the bay.

“Are you thinking there is motive behind that my student?” Kalzarius leaned on his staff from the top floor of his home, tired and weary from no sleep in days.

“Yes, honestly. I think this is a diversion to keep us from what is going on in the throne rooms and so that we are unable to assist Gwenneth and her friends with the scroll of Annar. I have no doubt.” Cilano held his white bleached pine staff up, seeing the onyx gem glow with golden light, and stepped next to his master.

“Is it time for me to rest then? You know what to do if-“

“Kalzarius, master, I have done this with you several times. I know all of the incantations of the defenses, the triggers at the gates, and even the arcane energies to transform the trees should we be breached. I can hold the barrier for three or four hours, but I will wake you before then. Take a few hours rest.”

“Very true, very true. You have been my best student Cilano, that much is certain.
Wak
e me if anything transpires.” t
he old wizard walked from the balcony, and into his bedchamber. He was feeling his age catching up with him, sensing that he could not hold the defenses alone for more than a day at a time any longer. It was not always so, and Kalzarius worried much of what w
ould happen to when he was gone from this world.

“Master
K
alzarius, why exactly do we stay here?” Cilano had been wanting to ask the question for many years, but rarely had the nerve. For some reason beyond him, it seemed like the time to ask.

“We stay because this is my home, and a sought after place of learning stee
ped in history and tradition.” t
he old master of the arcane replied
from the comfort of his bed, the swirling magical lanterns and lights outside the windows giving him solace and peace.

“It has nothing to do with the prison below then?” Cilano dared to bring up the
secrets he
was asked to never speak of. H
e knew that there was a prison, the m
ythical prison of Et Mowginnar
, and it was kept in a secret impassible chamber
far
below the tower. He had heard and read many things about what it was, mostly theological superstition and ancient speculation.

“It does, and that information must never leave this tower. Should someone ever hear of it, and know what it is, it could destroy far more than this city or kingdom. She must never be unleashed, nor her servants of the prison
of the dead
. The exiled of the Gods
must never be found.” Kalzarius knew that only he remained of the wizards and priests that had been pas
sed the knowledge of the chamber that held an artifact of terrible damnation
. None of them, not even he, knew how to open it, use it, or had even seen what was beyond. When he was young and
re
built his tower over the old one that’s sole purpose was to guard what lay beneath, Kalzarius
was sworn
never to open it nor pass on the information except to the one who would take his place upon death. He was told it was of terrible power, and held beings that could not be controlled. A woman of ages old immortality was tied to
the
prison, and her name was never to be known nor the prison ever viewed. It had been there for thousands of years, taken from the north by someone speculated to be Megos himself, the God of the white moon and father of magic from long ago. Regardless of the history, Kalzarius had kept his word, and passed only the knowledge of its existence to Cilano, who would replace him as the guardian of the tower when the time came.
The master of the tower thought of how unrewarding it had been to guard Et Mowginnar, a mystical prison he had never seen.

“So that is the real reason that we do not leave this city, no matter how many times we are attacked, besieged, or betrayed.” Cilano closed his eyes and concentrated on the defenses, sensing if the enemy was approaching or not. They were not, and his arcane power and focus flowed through him and his staff as he cleared his mind.

“You are correct. And we shall always be here, protecting what cannot be destroyed, what must never be heard of or found, and absolutely must never be opened. The
prison of the damned
will forever be held in secret, sealed off from the world under this tower. You will carry on this task after I am gone, and then pass it to another.” Ka
lzarius turned over on his side
and began to sleep, comfortable in the fact that not even he knew how to open the outermost
ancient gates of magicked iron that would
lead to the prison. Those secrets had been lost for almost two thousand years.
No one knew of them, supposedly.

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The painting of Richmond the First, a faded full length pose of the man in regal blue velvet robes on the throne, opened and creaked.
Richmond looked up, dagger in hand under the sheets, then relaxed seeing Florin step from the secret passage. Her blue velvet cape fastened over the black tunic decorated with the crown and rose looked stunning, especially with the silver crown of the queen atop her dark short locks of hair. Her eyes of rich brown seemed to smile more than her mouth as she bowed slightly and walked over to the bed.

“It is done then?” Florin stayed clear of the window and spoke softly, knowing guards were positioned on the other side of the door.

“Almost.
The bishop will do as I have asked, which will make me appear merciful to the people and the church by staying the execution. When I leave here with Rosana and her lover, you head to
Saint Erinsburg along the forest road
. Imprison Javiel after I leave, the scrolls should prove enough to the knights. They will be looking for you, and most likely try and turn the army to their cause with myself,
y
ou, and the bishop out of the picture.” Richmond stood and looked out the window, admiring the moons journeying slowly over his city.

“
And what of Savanno? What if he and the queen delay?” Florin paced slowly, tapping her rapier to her boot.

“He will take her to Shanador, the only safe haven they have.
Let whatever attempt to enter the city seem victorious, then we will make an escape.
Caberra would imprison him, Chazzrynn is too far, and Willborne is not safe; he knows this much. When they leave,
you
kill him and capture her. You know what to do from that point on. By the time you return, all will be ready. We have little time Florin, the cardinal will arrive and try and wrest the throne. This bolstering of my rule will fail unless I have an heir on the way, the people behind me, and you to blame for much treason and atrocity.” Richmond smiled, knowing full well that his plans would work if all carried out his orders.

“And the other knights? I may have to kill a few that become suspicious you realize. That leaves Kalzarius and the Cardinal to deal with
.” t
he Seneschal of Harlaheim dr
ew her steel bla
de, admiring the craftsmanship of the thorned vine crosspiece and etchings
of roses upon the straight edge
.

“Do what you must.
The queen will have come back to me out of love, I will
have the praise of the army and people for ceasing the siege and stopping the killings in the city streets you have yet to perform, the
n the
citizens will love me. Once I have a loyal and forgiven queen bearing my child on the throne, the cardinal will have no power. That will leave Kalzarius alone, without Savanno’s allegiance, to speak ill of a king with the whole of the city behind him. Not even the cardinal would dare question me. Then we will hand pick and place the knights we want into the church and the court.” Richmond smiled at Florin
, knowing she was despising the thought of
bearing his child, no matter what the pay was.
“
Then you will mysteriously die after childbirth
, and enjoy your life wherever
,
with all your gold.”

“Pardon my leave, your highness. I have people to slaughter a
nd riots to start in your city. I must earn my execution well. Good night.” Florin stepped into the shadows of the
secret door behind the painting
and closed it behind her.
The thought went through her mind to kill him, bu
t it was not time
, not yet anyway.

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Sir Sulian waited for the guards on patrol to pass by in the poorly lit street. His cloak covered his face and armor well, his tension thankfully could not be seen in the dark. He motioned to the eight soldiers of the Order of Saint Tarumin that he had gathered from the church. The knight of Harlaheim turned the corner and knocked three times on the worn wooden door to the abandoned stone carcass of a building. It opened, one of Cristoff’s men that had come with Savanno stood ready with crossbow in hand. He nodded,
the nod was returned, and the men followed Sulian below to the dingy basement.