Authors: Andrew Wood
This had not been the first, or even second time the two had fallen out. Taking a deep breath, he stood and started making his way to the keep. He slowly walked along the barren stony areas cleared and marked out, but were not yet being built upon. He had always done his duty, and with a sudden renewed energy would sort this boy out. He would go and find him now, sort it out once and for all. There was so much for the boy still to learn, if only he would listen. As it was, the fool would certainly kill himself and probably everyone else with in a fifty-mile radius. If that happened, it would be as much his failure as the boys.
The guards at the keep gate let him in, though the ones at the doors would not. "Just tell the boy I wish to see him," he said. The guard looked confused, "you wished to speak to the prince's little boy?" Dagon snapped, "No you blithering idiot why would I want to see him. The prince, fetch him." The guard looked at him, before he nodded to his colleague, "wait there." Dagon shook his head dispairingly; it seemed everyone in this city was as thick as his morning porridge.
A message was sent up for Luken to come down to the keep entrance, ' there was a scruffy, rude old man ' wishing to speak to him. He had known straight away by the description given it was Father Dagon; no one else he knew fitted that portrayal. He had thought about refusing, until Sarena had persuaded him to at least go and make his peace. Begrudgingly he slowly made his way down the stairs; going through his mind of all the names, he might call him, giggling to himself when he thought of a particularly witty one.
The guard stepped aside for him to exit, and there before him was the most irritating old man he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He stepped out into the yard to talk and shielded his eyes, as they adjusted from the gloomy keep to the brightness of the sun. "What is it you want Dagon? I thought we had decided not to bother each other anymore. We only ever end up arguing, you do not like me, you have made that quite plain." The old man looked at him, "Perhaps. I have spoken to Sandred again, he still asks me to persevere with your arrogance and incredulous attitude." Luken shrugged, "see we have spoken two sentences and already we have resorted to name calling."
People moved around the yard, and the two continued their little chat whilst trying to dodge workers moving this way and that. "Dagon, do not get me wrong I would love to learn all these great magical things you reckon I should be able to do, but you do not give me chance." Dagon was about to reply when he suddenly leapt in front of Luken, and a man bumped into them, knocking both off balance.
The old man grunted, and then looked up despairingly, and at first, the young prince did not understand what had taken place. Luken then noticed the dagger wound in Dagon's chest, and managed to shout for the guards before the blade came towards him. The red blood seeped outwards through the old man's beige robe. Instinctively raising his hand to defend himself, he saw the attacker go flying up and backwards across the yard, and thumping back to the ground.
The guards quickly surrounded him, and he looked down to the old man at his feet. Kneeling beside him, he felt for a pulse, hoping he may still be alive. Perhaps he would be able to help, but there was no sign of life. He could tell that the blade had plunged deep into the man's heart, but with no water at hand, he could not even try to heal. The keeps bell started ringing, a call to arms and they were under possible attack. He shouted out for water, and after a little confusion, one of the stable hands ran with a bucket, slopping liquid across the yard as he did.
Grabbing the bucket, he just threw the contents over the body on the floor. Attempting once more to utilise the gift given to him, he felt frustration, as no matter what, the healing just would not work. He could see the puncture ripping the heart nearly in two, but he was powerless to repair it. He stood back, reluctantly giving up. He may have great power, but not even he was able to bring people back from the dead. He realised then that the old man had saved his life. He must have seen the knife coming, and sacrificed himself to save Luken. That blade wound in Dagon's chest was aimed at his, and the man responsible, was being dragged across the yard, kicking and flailing.
General Skalton appeared from the keep. Looking quickly around, noticing the prince was okay. He grabbed the nearest guard and demanded to know what had taken place. Before moving towards Luken, "are you alright your highness, "he asked as he noticed the old man dead on the ground. Luken nodded, "yes Thomas, thank you. Just a little shaken, that blade was meant for me." The General looked to where the prisoner was being held, and then to the ring of guards, "Get the prince inside the keep. No one you don't recognise gets in." With that, Luken was ushered across the yard and back in through the keep door.
The keep gates were ordered closed, "no one in or out!" the General shouted. Guards from the keep and barracks were now flooding out into the yard. The prisoner squirmed and wriggled trying to free himself. Managing to pull an arm free he lashed out at the guard holding his other arm. Struggling to hold on to stop the prisoner escaping the guard smashed a fist in to his face. The General hurried over and helped restrain him.
"Who sent you?" He yelled at the bloodied man's face. His only reply was to be spat at, an action that earned him another blow to the head. Suddenly the prisoner started foaming at the mouth, coughing and spluttering before finally going limp. "He's dead Sir," the guard said checking. Letting the man's limp body fall to the floor, the General checked for any clues. It was obvious he had managed to take his own life, by somehow biting down on something in his mouth. Probably some sort of poison, to ensure if he was ever captured, he would die before revealing any answers.
General Skalton was quite sure, from where the man originated, and rolling up the sleeve on the prisoners left arm confirmed his suspicions. "Darekian assassin, we need to maintain tight security. These always work in pairs." On the arm of the man was a tattoo, depicting a human skull, a symbol he had seen once before many years ago. Other than that, there were no further indications as to where the man had come from. He had probably walked in to the city, mixed in with the builders and traders, and somewhere there was very likely another.
He ordered everything remain locked down, he knew these assassins always worked in pairs. Somewhere, whether in the keep or the city would be the other. They needed to find him, before he found his way to his target. He quickly ordered the bodies in the yard to be cleared away, before returning into the keep. The King would need to be warned, and the prince and his family protected.
Guards were stationed on every floor, as well as taking positions on the staircases themselves. He found both the King and Prince sat in the sitting room of Lukens quarters. The young man had clearly been shaken, and was being comforted by his wife, and sipping a glass of brandy. On noticing the General enter, Caldar stood, "What is going on Thomas?" clearly shocked himself at the attempt on his brother's life.
The General gave his surmise. The attacker had been Darekian, and had taken his own life when captured. "It appears that the Darekian's have heard about our magical prince your majesty. More to the point, these assassins always work in two's." There were a few looks of panic, but he told them he had done all he could to make sure no one could get in. "As a precaution, I wish to check the left arm of every person in this keep. Our man will have a small tattoo of a skull, just here," he pointed to a place on his lower arm.
Whilst the others were busy listening to the General talking, Taylor thought it his chance to steal a sip from his dad's drink. Quietly and tentatively moving the glass up to his mouth, and taking a quick taste, whilst everyone else looked away. After coughing and spluttering the contents back out over the table, the young boy looked a little abashed, clearly thinking his crime had not been worth it. His dad looked at him sternly, "Taylor," he snapped," now is not the time for tomfoolery, serves you right."
Working from the top floor down, every worker, guard and member of royal staff was subjected to a check. The royals were, for safety all kept in the same room, with Royal Guard's inside and out. Luken was still shaken and had started thinking it was his fault for Father Dagon's demise. After all the arguments and name-calling between the two, the old man had sacrificed his own life to safe him.
A guard bought up the item Luken had requested, it was the stone pendant from Dagon's corpse. He held it in his hand, and felt it his duty to let Sandred know. He was not even sure it would work for him, as all attempts for the old wizard to make contact with Luken had proved somewhat futile. He thought it worth a try, and tried to recall how Dagon had used the stone.
He felt the stone warm a little, but all he got were garbled images and sounds in his mind. It was if he were looking at pictures of his dreams of the old man, but all distorted. Trying several times he finally gave up. Sarena patted his hand, "would you like me to try", she said softly. She took the pendant, and nearly jumped from her skin as she heard a voice and the image of an old man in her mind. "Ooh! It's working, what shall I tell him Luken?" she asked. "Can you hear me Sandred?" Luken asked. Sarena was quite excited, "yes, he says yes he can."
Luken spent the next five minutes explaining the circumstances surrounding Father Dagon's death. How, had he been a better pupil, it would have never have happened. "He says you cannot blame yourself. Dagon gave his life willingly to save yours. Do that justice by learning," Sarena said, passing on the message. "Hello Sandred," Taylor shouted into the conversation. "Sandred says hello to you," she replied still excited by the novelty of it all.
If Luken was willing, and providing it was acceptable with his wife, Sarena should keep the pendant. She could act as the link between her husband and the wizard, and Luken would now be taught directly by Sandred. It was clearly not the ideal situation but, as for some reason still unknown to the wizard, Luken and he could not communicate directly. For now, they needed to concentrate finding the second assassin still at large somewhere in New Easton.
General Skalton ensured the room was clear of everybody, aside from the members of the royal family. Much to his king's disgust, even Vanessa was excluded. It was not that he doubted her in any way, nor did he for one instance think she was a Darekian sent on a mission to kill the prince. He had come up with a plan and for it to have any chance of being successful, the fewer who knew the better. He told them if others knew they may act or behave differently, and that may be a factor in keeping the intruder from revealing himself. Both Caldar and Luken were aware of the seriousness, and so allowed their General to put his plan forward.
Despite every person in the keep having been checked Thomas Skalton still suspected his target to be somewhere within. Hidden away, moving between the shadows, as only a killer of this ilk would do. Nighttime came and with the light within now only being supplied by the lamps burning in the hallways, it was a good time for such a man to make a move. With staff all retreating to their own rooms, moving about would be less dangerous for someone sneaking about. Guards were positioned outside the doors of the rooms that held the royals, and as the night progressed and they turned in for the night, it would be time for the killer to strike.
In the very early hours of the morning, as all was silent a dark figure moved in amongst the shadows. Two guards stood outside each of the doors, but the figure new which room to enter. Moving slowly and quietly, he extinguished one of the lamps burning on the wall. One of the guards ventured over to investigate. The intruder then turned out another, causing the corridor to drop into virtual darkness. The guard quickly re-lit the lamp, and he and his colleagues checked the area for anything suspicious. There was no sign of anyone, and all the doors were still closed.
Inside the room, the figure stood behind the door he had entered. Listening to see if the guards returned to their posts or raised any sort of alarm. Satisfied he had slipped past them, he continued in, passing across the sitting room and to toward the bedroom. Silently opening the bedroom door, he could see two dark shapes lying in the bed. Gradually pulling his dagger, he edged closer to the slumbering couple. He raised the blade up to strike down on the dark shape nearest to him.
The room was suddenly alight with lamps, and the intruder fell backwards as two crossbow bolts thumped into his torso. The two shapes on the bed remained motionless, being as they were little more than cushions piled under the blankets. The room was lit properly and General Skalton stood, relieved. Checking the intruder's arm, he noticed the tattoo, and knew he had out smarted and foiled the second assassin.
His plan had worked perfectly. Placing guards outside the door would signal to any intruder that some one of importance was inside. However, Luken, Sarena, Taylor and Hope were not even on the same floor. They were sleeping, all huddled together, in the quarters of Dareen, on the floor below in the staff's rooms. He would let them sleep for now, and give them the news in the morning. Security would have to remain tight, and the movements of Luken and Caldar would have to be restricted, even if they did not like it.
Even the king had been ushered into other quarters, and a man acting as his double had been used instead. This double, had the previous night played the part of Caldar, and was to make sure he could be clearly seen entering his quarters. Any intruder, hiding in the shadows would have witnessed, whom they thought was the king leaving his brothers room for his own, whereas in reality, neither was where they were perceived to be.
Chapter 17.
The hunting party made their way northeast, through heavy forested land. The tree's stood tall and broad, and little of the suns warmth reached the men below. The track on which they rode was narrow and uneven, and hence care had to be taken with the horses. They were following what they hoped were signs of what they thought could be four Orlacs. There rather distinctive clawed feet, and there sheer weight and size always ensured good tracks to follow.