Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) (15 page)

Celia looked at Hoyle, concern and resolve showing in his
eyes.  It gave him a dangerous look that she hadn’t seen before, a less
flippant air, quite different than the Hoyle she had met just a week ago.

Time crawled ever slowly onward, the sun tracking across the
wall towards the windows and escape.  If only we could escape so easily,
thought Celia.  Once it was dark though, Salrissa and one other could escape
easily enough, but what wrath would come upon the other three.

With nothing to do in the room but watch the sun and with
it, the evidence of passage of time, she became restless. 
But what else to
do?
  She didn’t want to wear herself out pacing like Salrissa, or stare
into the abyss like Zazaril.  At least Hicks and Hoyle were now talking quietly
on the divan on the side of the room.  She hadn’t even thought to bring any of
the tomes she was researching.  Thinking this trip would be rather brief, she
hadn’t brought anything she wasn’t wearing. 
Well, I’ll never do that
again.  Next time I will be prepared.

Finally, after several bells, they heard sounds in the
hallway, and a key in the lock.  They all moved toward Zazaril and the
fireplace between the windows, as far from the door as possible.  Celia stood
behind the armchair with Zazaril in it.  Hicks went and sat in the other, while
Hoyle rested his hand on the back, standing to the side of the chair.  Salrissa
turned her back to the door, and faced the flames, which were very low by this
point – they had run out of firewood about a bell before, and hunched her
shoulders, trying to appear small.

The door opened and two towering palace guards in their
chain and plate mail, with blood red cloaks streaming behind them, entered the
room, checked for danger and made the chamber suddenly feel small.  Celia froze
as the pair of guards parted and she saw the scaazi on its leash ahead of a
pair of cloaked Rak’soraa.  The Fear Squad stepped aside, moving against the
wall, as First Chancellor Yalang followed in his shimmering purple robe, gold
sash and cap.  He looked over the group sitting and standing in front of the
fireplace with a sneer and ordered, “You will kneel.”

As the group of them complied – Hoyle and Celia beside the
armchairs, Zazaril and Hicks in front of them, and Salrissa huddled down as
small as she could make herself between the armchairs, directly in front of the
fire – they saw the Emperor through the doorway.

The Emperor glided into the room, deep red robes flowing
along just above the floor, giving the appearance of floating, followed by two
more muscular palace guards, also in the standard chain and plate mail.  The
five of them all looked down to different degrees, but Celia kept her head up
just enough to see through the top of her peripheral vision.  It appeared as if
Hoyle was trying to do the same.

The Emperor stood in front of the door as one of the guards
closed it.  Celia couldn’t tell from her vantage point, but it felt as if the
Emperor was scrutinizing each of them with his gaze.

“It appears to the Throne that you are all tangled up in
some plot against the Emperor,” First Chancellor Yalang began in his nasally
voice.  At this pronouncement Celia’s heart leapt into her throat as her fear
took hold.  “Especially you three,” Yalang gestured at Hoyle, Salrissa and
Celia.

“There is some testimony on behalf of your character from
people the Throne trusts, but the fact remains that you were identified as
being at the location of a raid by the city guard on a suspected anarchist
hideout by our security team.  Though this is only implicating by way of the
circumstances, your guilt or innocence is still in doubt.”  Yalang paused in
his litany.  Celia thought she could see the Emperor checking his nails as he
stood over them.

“Therefore, you will be required to prove your innocence to
the Throne.”

“How?” Hoyle blurted out sullenly at the same time as
Zazaril cried out, “Surely you can’t mean me?”  Celia could see the rage on
Hoyle’s face and the confusion on Zazaril’s.  Hicks and Salrissa still knelt,
motionless, heads drooping ever so slightly more.

“I am so glad you asked.”  And then the First Chancellor
told each of them exactly what they were going to do as the Emperor looked on. 
They were not happy.  Not happy at all.

Hoyle stood, contemplating the last day since the Throne had
told them each what they needed to do, as they waited for the magegate to open
on their destination.  He looked around at the odd group, as they stood
uneasily amongst each other.  Well most were uneasy, but more than likely due
to the fact that they would be travelling with a Fear Squad, more than with the
remaining people.  The Fear Squad stood calmly at the front, one of the
Rak’soraa moving to open the gate.

Of the five of them, only three were tasked with
accompanying this group; himself; Celia; and Salrissa.  The three from the
tower.  They were given time to return to the surface and collect their
travelling gear, such as it was, after the Emperor made a good show of having
the scaazi scent each of them, and especially their most personal items: his
firebird earring that he had worn since his tenth birthing day; Celia’s
magestone amulet that she must have worn since her graduation to full Dar'Shilaar;
a hidden knife found on Salrissa that she had been allowed to keep.  Hoyle
thought he saw a small smile on the Emperor’s face from the corner of his eye
upon discovery of the knife.

Before heading back down to Tala'ahar, Hoyle made an
indignant demand for his rapier, stiletto, cloak and boots, which surprisingly
they returned to him once he returned to the surface through the magegate in
Parr’ador.  It was nice to feel the familiar weight on his waist again, and the
comfort of his own footwear.  He hated breaking in new boots with a passion. 
He checked to see if his lock-bypassing hardware was still in his left boot,
and was happy to find that the thin slits of metal were still there. 

That was yesterday, when they were told to return to the
gates of Parr’ador at lunch bell today.  For if not, they would be hunted down
by the same Fear Squad that accompanied them now.  It had not been said what
would happen to them after they were hunted down.

Looking over Celia, who was standing closer to him and
Salrissa more than any of the others, he could see that she had changed her
attire the most.  She wore dark blue wool robes to her ankles that hid her
sturdy leather boots.  A heavy wool cloak in the same shade of blue covered her
head in the light mist that was condensing around them.  Hidden beneath the
cloak looked to be a medium sized backpack that was shaped as if holding books
or tomes of some kind and possibly some clothes.  She was holding an oak staff
in her left hand that was as tall as she.  When she turned and looked at him,
he could see that she had her magestone amulet hidden beneath her robes.  He
could also see the apprehension in her eyes.  It was a feeling he shared.

Salrissa had donned her standard black leather armor and
cloak, knives sheathed about her body, with only her glacier blue eyes visible
above the face shield.  She had no need for a backpack with her magical pouch,
but she carried a small one anyway, but lightly stuffed Hoyle was sure. 
Salrissa stared at the magegate unwaveringly.  Hoyle could not guess what she
was feeling, and she had not opened up to him last night, spending the majority
of it prowling the streets.

Hoyle himself had returned to the Red Rooster Inn and had
promptly fallen asleep for the afternoon, the twelve hour rest he had managed
in the Warrens obviously not enough for his tired body.  He then ate a
generous, though quiet, supper.  Since neither he nor Hicks wanted to talk
about the terms of the task of proving themselves innocent in the eyes of the
Throne, and Salrissa had not returned with them to the Inn, they ate without
speaking.  He had listened to other conversations throughout dinner, and the main
topic of rumor and speculation was the closed border with Goralon.  When he
prompted Hicks on this topic all she did was grunt.  Once she was finished
eating, she had excused herself to go about her business of “washing the Throne
off my hands.”

Once he had finished supper, most of the shoppes he would
need to visit for the equipment he needed were closed for the night, so he
spent a relaxing evening stretched out by the fire.  He sat with his feet up by
one of the fireplaces in one of the four overstuffed armchairs, his feet
propped up on the matching ottoman.  They were comfortable, even with the worn
and faded velvet and grease-stained cushions, and Hoyle closed his eyes and
relaxed as the latest band began to play.  He mentally tried to tighten and relax
each muscle in his body, a skill he had learned in the first years in
Tala’ahar, but had yet to master.  This time his body resisted, his muscles remembering
the torture that ended less than a day ago.

Finally, he went up to his empty room, noting that Salrissa
had not been there since he had awoken just before dinner bell, and undressed
and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning relatively early, to the smell of
bacon frying coming from the kitchen below, its essence permeating the entire
Inn.  Edvard knew how to get his patrons up in the morning – that was for
certain!  He dressed in his own clothes that he kept in the dresser in his
continually rented room, and threw the borrowed, slightly ill-fitting, clothes
in a pile on the floor in the corner of the room.  He went downstairs and had a
good breakfast of thick bacon, scrambled eggs, sliced ham and porridge.  Once
he was full, he went out and managed to find all the things he figured he would
need, and a new slim backpack to carry them in.

Now he was standing in his new burgundy leather armor,
two-sided cloak – also with the hood up to keep the mist off his head – and his
familiar weapons by his side and footwear on his feet.  The backpack he had
brought was tight to his back, under his cloak to keep the rain off.  His
firebird earring was comforting against his cheek as he surveyed the remainder
of the group.

Robart “Slowkiller” was standing near the Fear Squad,
crutches no longer needed, apparently.  He was dressed in chainmail over black
leathers with a large greatsword a span long slung across his back, the pommel
sticking up over his right shoulder.  A smaller longknife was in a hilt on his
belt, strapped to his left thigh for quick drawing.  A dark wool cloak graced
his shoulders, but he kept the hood down, letting the mist condense on his
smooth head.  It looked a little like his bird-of-prey tattoo was weeping. 
Every once in awhile he would look over at Hoyle and his frown would deepen; he
would then quickly look away.  He carried a small backpack over one shoulder.

Beside him was the small healer from the throne room, a
Daughter of Saveesha, dressed in the temple’s typical white hooded robes, hands
crossed within the folds of the voluminous sleeves, her head bowed as if in
prayer.  She was carrying a small rucksack over her shoulders that did not seem
very full.

By now the Rak’soraa had begun the incantation to activate
the magegate, and Hoyle felt the inevitable pull on his body that he had
experienced every time he had travelled through one, which was now thrice. 
Twice in the last twenty-four bells, and he was going to step through another
one. 
Well the same one really, just for the fourth time...

He saw Celia slump a little as the pull became stronger, so
he stepped forward and grabbed her elbow, helping her remain standing, barely
managing to do so himself.  She looked at him with a look of tired gratitude. 
It seemed as if the magegate took longer than usual to create the link with the
other end, but once it did, he saw why.  Once the gate coalesced into a fixed
image, they found themselves looking upon a mirror-image, a shaded room with
open arch to a sunset sky over battlements.  Where they were standing now it
was just past lunch bell, almost one bell into the afternoon, but on the other
side of the gate, it seemed near or past the dinner bell.  Hoyle didn’t need
geography or mathematics the scholars touted, or the fact that they had been
told where they were being sent, to figure out that the other end was hundreds
of leagues to the east.

The Rak’soraa stepped out of the way and gestured toward the
gate.  Robart and the healer moved forward and stepped through into the
lengthening shadows of dusk in the other sky citadel - the sky citadel guarding
the mountain pass to Goralon.  The glowing eyes of the Rak’soraa fell on the
trio with warning, as they paused.  Hoyle, Celia and Salrissa, after a glance
at each other, moved forward and stepped through the magegate.  The Fear Squad
followed immediately behind them.

---o---

Hoyle looked around the courtyard of Farad’avor, which was only
about half the size of the Imperial Sky Citadel, but still impressive.  He
noted the sun reflecting off the tops of the mountain peaks surrounding the sky
citadel, and the red streaking the sky.  To some, it was seen as a bad omen,
meaning blood would be spilled this night.  He did not put much stock in
superstition.  Nonetheless,
“It's better to be careful, than dead,”
after
all, he thought.

The guards of Farad’avor were not as imposing as those of
the Imperial Guard stationed in the imperial sky citadel, but were still as
heavily armed and armored.  The guards led him, Celia, Salrissa, Robart and the
healer through a large gate in the wall, its portcullis raised, to another
courtyard fronting a large keep.  The building towered above the walls, with
turrets flaring out from the sides of some of the towers.  In the waning light,
he could see the catapults and ballista stationed on those vantage points, with
a man keeping watch at each.  The contingent of guards continued up and through
a large doorway that was currently open, but had a portcullis ready to drop at
a moment’s notice.  A long hallway riddled with murder holes on the walls and
ceiling finally led them to a small, austere reception hall.

The hall contained long trestle tables to each side, leaving
a wide aisle down the center which led to a chair on a raised dais.  Torches
had been lit around the walls of the hall to fight the coming night, and the
thick smell of burning pitch tainted the air and stung the eyes.  Several
sturdy oak doors, banded in metal, led away from the room.

They were led before a tall, carved wooden, high-backed
chair and the man seated there upon.  A middle-aged man, probably in his early
forties with deep brown eyes that showed laugh lines and thick salt-and-pepper
hair, leaned forward to examine them as they stood before the raised seat.  He
was lean and muscular, and wore simple brown leather armor and carried a simple
shortsword in a scabbard on his belt.

Standing beside the chair was a woman who worried Hoyle, but
he could not immediately place why.  She also wore simple leather, only black
in color, and carried a slim rapier similar to his on her hip.  She had
unrelenting green eyes and short blonde hair, the contrast to her armor quite
striking.  She was standing quietly and apparently relaxed, but he sensed an
inner spring ready to coil.  He noted only then that the Fear Squad had not
followed them into the hall.

Finally the man stood, showing himself to be a height with Hoyle,
and nodded to Robart as equals, before walking around the rest of them, as if
to examine cattle at a market.  “I am Captain Keyth.  This is my second-in-command,
Thandria,” he gestured to the woman, who nodded her head slightly.  “Farah’avor
and the fort in the pass below us are under my command.  My mission here is to
protect the people of the Empire from any threat from Goralon to the east by
making sure this pass is sealed tight when required.  As of several days ago,
Goralon closed their border to our merchants, turning them away, so we in turn
closed the gates to the pass.”  His voice was crisp, but not harsh as he came
around to stand in front of them again.

“Word was sent ahead of your arrival, and your mission,” the
Captain continued.  Salrissa looked at Celia with an I-told-you-so look, which
caused Celia to shrug her shoulders.  Celia noticed that the other woman had
removed her face shield.  “I am to help you in any way I can, without
sacrificing the safety of this citadel or the fort below.  First, I need to
show you something.” 

He gestured to the guards, and they moved to one of the
doors on the side wall.  Opening the sturdy portal, they came upon a winding
stair that led upwards.  Following the Captain, they ascended the stairs for
several minutes, unspeaking.  At the top, every one of them other than the
Captain and his second-in-command, were winded beyond measure. 
I thought I
was in better shape.

As Hoyle stood from catching his breath, he found it caught
in his throat.  They were in a room at the top of the tallest tower in the sky
citadel, about ten paces across.  Eight large panes of glass looked out of the
center of each wall of the octagonal room.  It seemed like they could see
forever.  Large, snow-capped mountains loomed in shadow to the north to the
west, all the way around to the southeast.  To the east, the land opened below
them into rugged foothills barely seen in the dusk light.  Beyond that the
shadows from the Whitetooth Mountains around them obscured the features of Goralon. 
They could see faint glimmers of light in the distance, which looked like
fireflies dancing in a group.  The sound of wind whistling through the cracks
in the stone and around the window frames added an eerie quality to the room.

Keyth saw which direction Hoyle was looking and came over to
stand beside him, hands behind his back, posture erect.  “Those lights are from
Karvesh, the capital of Goralon.  We are thirty leagues away and several
hundred spans higher here, but on a clear night such as this, we can see its
lights.”  He stood quietly while Hoyle took it all in as the dusk light faded
to darkness.

“As per the instructions supplied to me by the First
Chancellor, you are to be flown to the northern edge of Goralon, from there to
make your way to Karvesh.  This will happen the day after tomorrow.  Beyond
that, I know nothing of your mission – excursion, whatever it is to be called.”
Keyth added to the entire room.