“
So what is the outcome of this meeting to be?” Talgan asked boldly, his right hand touching the cold metal of the crossbow. “Are you here to dispose of me as you did to so many others in the north?”
The foreigner strode quietly across the study, his boot heels hardly making any sound on the wooden floor. “So news has reached you of our attacks,” he stated.
Talgan remained in his seat, looking up at him. “Yes. Why kill so many? Why the brutality and suffering? This was not supposed to be a bloody conflict.”
For a moment, the foreigner stood silently before him, staring down at the councilor with eyes hidden beneath the hood. “We killed those who stood against us. Your Rotian guardsmen from Barentin fought on despite knowing they were beaten. I was somewhat surprised by their valour.”
“
And what of those you murdered in Tamriel, Boraila and Turambar?” Talgan’s voice was strong and defiant.
The foreigner reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing his face fully to Talgan for the first time. Dark hair fell from the confines of the hood and his skin glowed a ghostly white in the light of the candles. “The soldiers at Turambar were not expected to simply give in. They fought as best they could to defend the fortress but we were inside before they knew what was happening. Some survived though and are now being held in Boraila.”
“
What will you do with the prisoners?”
“
That is up to our high mage.” The foreigner stared into Talgan’s eyes. “Now, I believe that you should remove your hand from that crossbow, unless you plan to use it.”
Talgan felt the bite of fear and, for a split second, the thought crossed his mind to raise the weapon. However, he brought his hand up and placed it on the desk. “The time has come for you to tell me more about your plans.”
“
Why would I tell you everything, rotian? You could easily tell your king all I explain here tonight.”
“
I have gone against
my
king in order to help you,” snapped Talgan. “I have told you everything you wanted to know and have given no reason that I would betray you. I know that, were I to tell Afaron everything, I would most likely be dead soon after.”
The foreigner gave him a cold smile. “True. By aiding us in taking over the kingdom, you are a traitor to your own people. However, your actions are noted by the high mage and he is a man who rewards those most loyal to him.”
“
Where is the high mage? Is he in the kingdom?”
“
Yes. He commands our forces in the north.”
“
How many men do you have on our shores now?”
“
We would outnumber your army so be aware that any direct conflict would only have one outcome.”
Talgan’s thoughts were of Afaron taking the Vylandor soldiers north. “You continue to be very sure of your success.”
“
Listen to me now, Talgan Akalla,” said the foreigner, leaning forward to tower over him. “My name is Saroth. I am an agent of the Shada-Kavielian empire. Our homeland is far to the west but we are a very different race to the Rotians. I am sixty-three years of age and, when you have perished from the ravages of time, I will still be walking this world.”
Talgan leant back in his chair. “So finally I know your name. Why tell me this now?”
“
Because you are going to tell me what is being planned by your king,” replied Saroth. “And I expect that the information you give me will lead to the end of the Rotian Kingdom. You should know who you now place your allegiance with.”
Talgan had feared this moment. There would be no going back once he told Saroth of Afaron’s intentions. “I understand. Do you expect to continue the bloodshed though? Is the intention of your high mage to conquer the kingdom in a swift, brutal offensive?”
“
That depends on your king. I believe that he will try to protect his kingdom as best he can…it would be expected of one so loyal to his people.” Saroth’s sarcasm caused Talgan to flinch. “However, if he surrenders to us then there will be no mindless killing. We are not barbarians.”
“
Were you involved in any of the battles in the north?” Talgan asked him.
“
Yes. I was at Turambar when it fell. It was I who opened the gates and who killed the commanding officer there.”
“
You
killed Sarin?” Talgan’s jaw dropped open.
“
Enough,” growled Saroth. “These questions are insignificant. Before you explain your king’s plans to me though, I am interested to know how this news reached you.”
Talgan considered his response but realized that it would be no use lying. “Survivors from the attacks in the north came to Vylandor.”
“
How many survivors?”
“
Six, plus a man from one of the settlements south of the river.”
Saroth’s eyes flashed menacingly. “Were there five young Rotians amongst them, one of them a girl?”
“
Yes. You know of them?”
“
They escaped Turambar and I believe that they had been in Barentin when the attack came. They are extremely lucky to have survived. Are they still in the city?”
Talgan hesitated. Did Saroth have an ulterior motive for coming to Vylandor? Seeing the Shada-Kavielian still glaring down at him, he nodded. “They are.”
Saroth saw the concern on Talgan’s face. “Do not worry yourself. I have no need to silence them considering they have already delivered the news.” A part of him questioned that statement. “They are just another cog in the workings of our plan.”
“
Must I remain in the city once you leave?” Talgan asked.
“
Of course. Unless you want to be branded a traitor
and
a coward.”
“
The captain of the guards is a suspicious man. He already looks at me as if he knows something.”
“
Then I suggest you remove him before he becomes a problem.”
“
What?” cried Talgan. “You expect me to kill Toresin?”
Saroth gave the cruel smile again. “You have every opportunity to get close to him.”
“
I’m not a killer like you.”
“
Then this Toresin may discover it is you who has been feeding us information and I would expect he would not hesitate in executing you. If the chance arises, dispose of him.”
“
People would notice if he vanished.”
Saroth sighed. “You are a diplomat. You would be able to think of a suitable reason that Toresin had
left
the city. Now, tell me what your king is planning.”
Saroth listened intently as Talgan explained Afaron’s plan of action. He asked further questions, pushing the Rotian councilor’s knowledge on the matter as far as possible. Finally, when he was satisfied that Talgan had given all the information he possessed, the assassin turned and headed for the door.
“
Is that it?” Talgan asked, finally finding the courage to stand. “Now I am left here to watch as the kingdom crumbles?”
Saroth came to a halt but did not turn back. “Your information will be of great use. Until we need you again, continue your work here. Consider what you must do about the captain of the guards. It is in your best interests that our meetings remain secret.”
“
What if I leave Vylandor and go to visit relatives in another part of the kingdom?”
“
That would be foolish. Your kingdom comes under attack and you suddenly decide to leave? Think how that would look.”
“
Saroth, I need to know what your next move will be.” Talgan walked from behind the desk and approached him. “If Afaron goes north, will he return?”
Saroth spun to face him, causing the councilor to take a step back. “I do not make the decisions for our people. That is left to the high mage. I will return to Boraila now to speak with him.”
“
I don’t wish for any further Rotian blood to be spilt,” Talgan said, his voice shaking slightly.
“
That is inevitable.” With that, Saroth was gone, leaving Talgan alone in his study to contemplate his actions.
Kithia found herself unable to sleep. However, this time it was not through concern or fear. Ever since she had met Arlath, the blond-haired soldier had been on her mind. He may have been arrogant and very aware of the reaction women had around him, but there was a certain charm too. She was sure that he had bedded many women from the city but that thought simply fuelled jealous feelings.
When she had said farewell to Gorric, she had told him that she would visit as often as possible. Her hopes were to see Arlath each time she returned to the barracks though and to have him escort her around Vylandor as he had offered. This would lead to them being alone more and that thought left her feeling something altogether different.
A soft knock came at her door.
“
Yes?” she called softly.
Karrid’s daughter, Arelya, slipped into the room. “I thought you might still be awake,” she smiled. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Kithia sat up in bed and watched as Arelya lit two candles. “I take it that it couldn’t wait until morning.”
Arelya grinned. “Sorry, but I am just so excited.”
Kithia had only recently met the councilor’s daughter but it had not taken long to realize that Arelya clearly did not have many friends to talk with. A year younger than Kithia, Arelya already treated her as if they had been friends for life.
“
Tell me whats on your mind,” Kithia said, squinting at the candlelight.
Arelya placed the candles on a bedside table. “You went to the barracks today to see your brother?”
“
Yes, and Khir.”
“
I was with father recently and he had to stop at the barracks to deliver a message. I saw your brother.”
“
Good for you. I hope he was polite.”
Arelya laughed. “I didn’t speak to him. I just saw him from afar.”
Kithia was waiting for her to continue but grew impatient. “So what did you want to ask me?”
“
Oh yes. I wondered whether you might introduce me to Gorric one day soon?”
Kithia smiled. “I see. What are your intentions?”
Arelya rolled her eyes. “I just thought he was…nice.”
“
Nice?” Kithia realized how different she was to this naïve girl, despite only being a year older. “A cake is nice. A walk in the sun is nice.”
Arelya looked away as her face reddened. “I just wanted to meet him.”
“
Of course I’ll introduce you,” chuckled Kithia. “Just remember that he can be a little dim sometimes so use short words when speaking.”
Arelya gave her a shocked look, then shook her head. “I’m sure he is very clever.”
“
Well, if you discover that he is not what you hoped, I have three other men I can introduce you to. Khir, Rynn and Varayan are all…nice.”
“
I thought that you and Rynn…I mean, you spend a lot of time with him.”
“
Rynn?” It was Kithia’s turn to look shocked. “He and I have become good friends since we first met but that doesn’t mean anything more.”
Arelya brushed her long black hair away from her eyes. “Sorry. You just looked very close.”
Kithia shrugged. “He is an acolyte of Ardan. I doubt he would find someone with as much fire as me of interest.”
“
Really?”
“
Yes, why?”
“
Its just that I’ve seen the way Rynn looks at you…mostly when you are looking away.”
Kithia was momentarily lost for words. “I think you must be mistaken.”
The two sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Arelya cleared her throat and gave Kithia an embarrassed smile.
“
Shall I leave you to sleep?”
Kithia was surprised by her own answer. “No. Stay and talk some more.” It had been a long time since she had someone to talk to about things such as this and it took her mind off what she had been through. “So tell me what you really think of my brother.”
Varayan darted across the rooftops, enjoying the rush of adrenaline as he leapt narrow gaps between buildings. Occasionally, the sloped rooves proved difficult to move along but he would slow down and place one foot in front of the other along the apex before breaking into another steady run. His footfalls were almost silent and he remembered the exhilaration of when he used to do the same back in Ashgar.
He stopped his run, looking out over the magnificent city before him. From the roof of this particular house amongst the noble district, he could see across most of Vylandor and as far as the ships moored in the harbour. He breathed in and smiled to himself. He had missed the freedom he once had.
In one of the streets below, he heard the unmistakable sound of boots clicking on the stones as a guard patrol wound its way across the district. He reached into his pocket and produced the money purses he had cut from unsuspecting belts earlier in the evening.
“
Better hide you when I get back,” he said outloud. “Now, which way is Jolas’ house?”
He scanned the sleeping city and, when he was satisfied in which direction his temporary home sat, he moved off again. Ahead, in order to reach Jolas’ estate, he would have to traverse a network of buildings which were only separated by alleyways. It looked like an easy route but, as he headed for them, a drop of water hit his face. Within moments, rain was steadily beating down on Vylandor and his path was looking much more treacherous. He slowed his pace so as not to slip.