Seeker (The Source Chronicles Book 1) (9 page)

Captain-General Callan, Constable drey-Sharron, Sir Garvol and General Bodrir stood around the conference table.  All turned to salute as the King entered.

“Report, my lords.”

These four men knew their King well enough to not mince words.  “We have turned up nearly nothing, your Majesty,” stated General Bodrir.  “We’ve found a few smugglers, several brigands in hiding, and about a half-dozen deserters of the Army and Navy.  No Falcon Raiders, no sign of your daughter or the Sorcerer.”

“My men continue to be on alert,” reported Constable drey-Sharron, “and we’re keeping a watch on a few suspected trouble makers.  Street patrols will be triple today.  If they’re still here, they’ll not leave.”

“We will keep Guardsmen on patrol as well, for the next couple of days.  They’ll be available to assist both Val and Malov’s men.  If they have not left, we will find them,” remarked Captain-General Callan confidently.

“Garvol?” the King asked.

“My liege, the prisoners have not talked.  Yet.  But I don’t think the merchant Kurr will last much longer.  He has confessed to being a Falcon Raider...he will speak more soon.  Your best Inquisitor will begin on him this morning, if you agree.”

The King nodded his head in accord.  Varlock-Sharron returned his attention to the General, the Constable, and Captain of his Guard.  “The situation is nearly intolerable.  My lords, if they are still in this city, and they manage to leave, I will be extremely disappointed.  I count on you for the security of my Kingdom, and you have never failed me before.  You have underestimated them up to this point, and they have taken advantage of this.  They must be stopped.  See to it there is no way for them to escape.”

He considered something more.  “I, too, have underestimated my daughter.  Therefore, in case they find some way out, let us not be caught up short.  General Bodrir, increase patrols within a few miles of the city.  I am taking no chances here.  I want them, dead or alive.”

All three acknowledged his commands.

King Varlock-Sharron turned to Lord Tulock.  “Very well.  Tulock, cancel my appointments for today.  I have other things to do.  See to it the gates are open.  Let my citizens return to work.  Also, I will need a few hours to myself in my apartments.  Make certain I am not disturbed.”             

“As you command, your Majesty.”

The King turned to leave.  But before he did, he looked back.  “One last thing, my lords.  Princess Lyrra-Sharron of House Anduin is no longer under royal protection.  Make that official.  She is to be treated as a common brigand and rabble-rouser.  Is that clear?”

Chapter 9

              Lyrra-Sharron sat at the table, eating a small piece of bread.  Dak had packed up the last of his gear again, and Cam Murtallan sat cross-legged on his cot, eyes closed. 

The merchant Max had come down about an hour ago, bringing food and promising disguises.  The city was already being reopened, but there were more constables and Guardsmen on the street than ever before, so he claimed.  There would be no easy way out.

              “What is taking him so long?” asked Lyrra-Sharron impatiently.

“He won’t send us off until the time is right,” stated Dak.  “He must find disguises, and the streets must be clear.”

“I do not like waiting around here,” remarked Lyrra-Sharron simply.

“We haven’t much choice,” said Cam, opening his eyes.

Lyrra-Sharron glared at the Sorcerer.  “Do you always pretend to meditate so you can eavesdrop, Cam Murtallan?”

The Sorcerer grinned ruefully.  “My dear lady, no one could possibly meditate with you complaining so loudly.”

Before she could respond, the door slowly swung open, groaning as though in protest.

              Cam moved surprisingly swift, his knife drawn as he crouched along the wall.  Dak and Lyrra-Sharron were also drawing weapons, but relaxed when Max Parcall entered.

The merchant looked frightened, his eyes wide, hands shaking.  “We have a problem.  I sent a messenger over to Kurr’s, and found it was locked up tight.  He and his wife are not there.  I did some checking, and rumor has it he was captured yesterday, and they took his wife in the night.  We’re in terrible trouble if they talk.  We’re done for if they talk.  What have I gotten myself into?  What are we going to do?”

“Get a hold of yourself, Max,” said Dak calmly, walking over to the merchant and placing his hands on his shoulders.  “It’s alright.  You and your wife will depart with us.”

“I can’t leave!  My shop!  My possessions!  My home!  How will I make my way?  I’m too old to start again!”

“Max, think a moment.  You knew this might happen.  You have funds.  You have family outside of Gara-Sharron.  You have connections, too.”

Dak was speaking slowly to the man, as if instructing a witless child.  “Move smartly.  We have to go now, before Kurr is broken.”

Max continued to shake, but nodded his head up and down slowly, mutely.

“Head back upstairs, but keep this door open.  We’ll avoid the shop and come up to your quarters.  Then we’ll all leave together.”  Dak was calm, his tone unchanging.

Max’s head never stopped bobbing up and down, mute, as he turned and walked up the stairs, leaving the door open.

Dak turned to Lyrra-Sharron, his tone all business.  “Kurr won’t last long.  We have to move out, and now.”

Lyrra-Sharron inclined her head.  “I have a plan.  But it will take some serious coordination and careful timing.  It will not be easy.”

“Is this sort of thing supposed to be?” asked Cam wryly.

“Go upstairs, Cam Murtallan.  I am right behind you.  Dak, seal this place up and follow me.  We have things to do.”

*****

There was no way to avoid the various soldiers, Guardsmen, constables and unseen lurkers. They were everywhere.  Never before had so many armed forces of various commands of the Kingdom of Sharron patrolled the capital.  It was nerve wracking...but they couldn’t let that show.

Lyrra-Sharron glanced all around.  This was very unusual, and she was not completely prepared for this kind of situation.  Growing up in the palace, the daughter of the King was given the finest education money could buy.  She had learned much about politics, as she was groomed to one day rule this Kingdom.  So it was she knew how her father would be forced to react...and that he would have to leave his city opened, even if he had to do a better job of patrolling it.

Her companions were moving in the same direction, but from different locations.  Lyrra-Sharron walked with the Sorcerer, Cam Murtallan, at her side.  He was dressed now in a fairly nice tunic of dark blue cloth, and a black vest trimmed in silver.  His hair was down, somewhat spread out to obscure his face. 

Lyrra-Sharron wore a dark tunic and vest similar, and her hair was also down.  She wore a large cavalier hat with several colorful feathers, and breeches.  A person would have to get particularly close to her to notice that this was a woman, not a man. 

They followed the merchant Max and his wife at a respectable distance, looking for all the world like household guards.  That was the disguise.  They were certain that Max and his wife hadn’t been implicated by Kurr, yet, and for now Lyrra-Sharron and company were still relatively secure.  That was expected to soon change, though for the time being they felt safe enough walking the streets…in as much as the most wanted fugitives in the nation could feel a sense of safety.

They were not far from the residence they had spent the night in.  If anyone asked, Max claimed he was going to check on some interests he was considering purchasing from a sick friend near the north wall.  Merchants of Max’s type, buyers and sellers of practically anything non-perishable, were not necessarily expected to spend all the time in their shop.

Dak was likely ahead of them at this time, scouting things out.  Dak had always worked better alone.  And if all had gone according to plan, things would turn interesting at any moment.

At least she could be fully armed in this disguise.  Cam Murtallan walked with a six-foot long quarterstaff perched over his left shoulder.  He also wore a very large knife at his side. 

Even though Max had a long sword Cam could have worn, he would have been completely ineffective with such a weapon.  The Sorcerer expressed his knowledge of knives, and claimed to be fairly good with a staff, a holdover from a misspent youth.  But if Cam even drew a longsword like Max’s, it would be obvious he had no skill, and the disguise would be broken.

Fortunately, merchant guards weren’t always competent with swords as weapons. 

Someone along the street cried out, pointing.  Others turned to look, as did Max and his wife.  Lyrra-Sharron took hold of a sword hilt, and spun about.

A cloud of dark smoke was rising from the residences from which they’d come.

Dak had completed his mission.

People began to walk towards the smoke, and soon constables and Guardsmen were riding off to the source of the smoke.  Calmly, Lyrra-Sharron and her companions walked off the other way.

More people came out of their homes, looking off at the ever-increasing smoke.  Dak must have started quite the fire.  So much the better.

They quietly moved onwards, doing their best to not do a thing that might draw attention to themselves.  As they came towards the north wall, Dak hovered just ahead of them.

He walked past Max and his wife, who slowed, and approached Lyrra-Sharron.  “It would seem our diversion worked.  I ignited Max’s house, and lit a small fire next door as well.  It will be enough of a distraction.  Unfortunately, the aqueduct is guarded, but only by four constables.”

“Is that all?” asked Lyrra-Sharron, having expected at least double that.

“There were more, but they rode off.  We haven’t much time.  We’d better move now.”

Lyrra-Sharron took a deep breath, let it out slow.  This was no time to move over-swift, and commit an error.  “Alright.  I have a suggestion.  Max?  Come here.”

Lyrra-Sharron explained her plan.  Cam didn’t like it, but was willing to go along.

*****

Minutes later, Cam was escorted towards the constables at the aqueduct, the merchant Max holding the quarterstaff, making a show of forcing Cam to march before him.

“Constables!  Constables!” called Max, his voice only barely hiding his anxiety.  “This man tried to rob me!  I overpowered him, and took this,” he shook the staff, “from him.  Help me!”

Three of the four moved towards him.  One spoke, holding a hand up, “My Lord, rest that staff on your shoulder.  This is no place for you to be.   Stop where you are.”

Max stopped, as did Cam.  The constables came closer.

Suddenly the fourth constable cried out.

They all turned, only to see their companion up against the wall, sinking to the ground, a knife protruding from his chest.

Dak and Lyrra-Sharron were running towards them from the other side of the alley.

Cam grabbed the staff from Max, and swung hard, taking one constable in the back of the head.  Before the other could react, he shifted, swinging the other end of the stick, smacking the constable across the face.  Both dropped.  As the third turned, Cam lunged forward, shoving the butt of the pole into the constable’s gut.  As he doubled over, Cam brought the other end of the staff around, cracking it over the man’s head.

It had been rapid, but the constables were all down.  Cam was leaning on his quarterstaff, catching his breath.

Lyrra-Sharron and Dak were there, and Max’s wife was coming down the ally from behind the merchant and Cam.  Dak withdrew his blade from the chest of the first downed constable.

“Well, Cam Murtallan, I am impressed.  It would appear you are, in truth, quite adept with that weapon,” said Lyrra-Sharron.

“Only way I survived on the streets of Aldara,” replied Cam, still catching his breath.  “It’s nice to know I haven’t lost my touch.  No idea how long its been since I’ve used one of these.”

“Max, Cam, help me move them into the service tunnel,” ordered Dak.  “We have to move fast.  The others will return soon.  Our time is running out.”

Soon, all of the constables, two of them dead, were laid down in the access channel.  One had been slain by Dak’s knife, the other by Cam’s quarterstaff.  Cam found himself feeling no remorse for the man’s death, only pity that it had been necessary.

Dak lit a torch, and led them through the passageway. 

No one spoke, and they waited for an ambush as they proceeded smartly through the narrow, dark tunnel. 

When they reached the door, Cam concentrated, focusing, and stretched out with his mind.  “Dak!” he hissed, before the man could open the door.

Dak turned towards him, knife drawn.  Cam pointed to the door, and held up four fingers.  Dak got the message, and inclined his head once to express his understanding.

Dak looked at Lyrra-Sharron, and she nodded her head up and down a couple times, her hands falling to the hilts of her rapiers.  Dak motioned Cam forward, whispering his plan quickly.

Cam looked at him, acknowledging his plan.  Dak changed his grip on the knife, and Lyrra-Sharron drew her rapiers as both took up position.

Cam knelt down, took a deep breath, then swept out a leg, quickly kicking open the door.

Dak leapt over the kneeling Sorcerer, and flew out of the tunnel.  He rolled as he hit the ground, then leapt back up, turning to face the passageway.

Cam watched through the opening as all four guards moved towards him.

Lyrra-Sharron ran past Cam out the door.  Two guards turned towards her.  Both had swords drawn.  The nimble princess dropped to one knee, thrusting up with the blade in her left hand, sliding into the gut of the first guard.

Cam watched, astonished, as she withdrew her rapier and rolled backwards, avoiding the sweep of the guard’s longsword.  She stood up again, parrying a stroke from the guard’s sword with the blade in her right hand.  She then parried with the rapier in her left.  She jumped to the right, using her left-handed blade to sweep away the guard’s sword.  As she did so, she thrust with her right-handed rapier into the man’s throat.

While Lyrra-Sharron fought, Dak had tossed his knife into the face of one of the guards.  As the man toppled over, Dak moved to the left, drawing his sword from his back.  Cam noticed both men take several swings, parrying each blow, until Dak ducked down, then stood up and stepped to the right, sweeping his sword across the guard’s chest.

It was all over in seconds.  The Sorcerer found himself impressed with the combat skills of his rescuers.  Dak and Lyrra-Sharron surveyed the area as Cam, Max, and his wife Nyra stepped out of the tunnel.

Lyrra-Sharron was cleaning off her blades on the cloak of a fallen soldier.  “If there are guards here, clear of the city by a mostly forgotten passage, you can be assured that we will encounter more patrols soon enough.  We had better leave.”

They moved the bodies into the passageway, sealing its’ door.

“We have about six or seven hours of sunlight left,” stated Dak with knowing authority.  “They’ll find the guards missing soon, and start looking for us.  We’ll be safer after night fall, but until then we must keep on the move.”

Cam let out a deep breath, feeling as though he’d been holding it in a long while.  He had never thought he’d see the world outside of Gara-Sharron again.  Though still on the run, he admitted he was glad to be free.

With Dak in the lead and Lyrra-Sharron bringing up the rear, they moved off into the woods to avoid the roads for as long as they could.

*****

The King almost marched down the hallway.  Always good at controlling his emotions, this time Varlock-Sharron was obviously displeased.  Servants, aides, soldiers, and anyone else who encountered their King cleared a wide path for him and Lord Tulock.