The Archon's Apprentice (11 page)

Their aimless walk led them near the armory and garrison. Two soldiers stood guard and saluted them as they walked past. Mikol took new interest in the weapons at their sides. A standard-issue sword hung from each of their belts. Mikol had once been in awe of how strong Ternian steel was. He knew Raythrael would be able to cleave through it with ease.

“Why have we not gone after this ... lost cache of weapons?” said Mikol.

“I do not know why previous Archons have not searched for them. Perhaps there was no need to find them. Perhaps the location has been lost to time. I have been searching for them ever since I had a hint they existed.”

“Thank you, Omoni. You’ve helped me think of something I can do. I will be back.”

Mikol took off at a run and left Omoni standing in the hall. The guards saluted Mikol as he rushed in to the throne room. His father sat in his usual place on the throne. The last of the petitioners was leaving for the day. This would be a good time to talk with him, as he had not begun to drink heavily just yet. Mikol quickly walked over to his father, gave a small bow, and waited for acknowledgement.

“Mikol, it’s always good to see you. Have a seat.” Raifaran indicated Arceri’s chair. Mikol nodded and smiled at his father. He took a step forward but hesitated. “It is only a chair, it won’t bite. Besides, your brother is not here to throw you out of it.”

Mikol sighed and sat down next to his father.

“How are you doing? Keeping up with your swords, I see. Going to win the tournament again this year?”

Mikol looked down at himself and realized he still wore his training garb. He smirked to himself and nodded to his father.

“I’m fine. I should win again if the tournament happens, which is why I came to see you. I need to leave the city and speak with Voletain.”

“You cannot. Have you been so focused on your training you have forgotten the war raging outside the city?”

“Outside the city? I don’t recall seeing any soldiers past the walls. I must speak with Voletain about the war. I think I can stop the war from actually reaching us.”

“If you recall, it was Voletain who forbade anyone from leaving the city. Now, being the king, I could go against the Archon and let you go, but I happen to agree with him. Especially since you are my youngest and probably only son left.” Raifaran winked at Mikol. “Though I’m not so old I couldn’t try for another son.”

“You would disgrace Mother’s memory by siring a bastard?”

Raifaran flinched away from Mikol’s words.

“What is so important that you need to risk yourself to speak with Voletain? What could you tell him that he doesn’t already know?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not something I can tell him but, rather I could help him remember something he forgot. I am sure he has forgotten more things than either of us has ever learned.” Raifaran grunted in agreement. Mikol drew Raythrael partially. “What if all of our soldiers carried swords like this? Nothing could stop them!”

“Hmm, Voletain gave you his sword. I had only heard about it many years ago. He never showed it to me.”

Raifaran held his hand out to Mikol. Mikol drew the sword out and placed it in Raifaran’s hand. Raifaran examined the blade closely. He ran a finger down the fuller slowly and held the sword with both hands. He deftly handed the sword back to Mikol.

“It is a beautiful sword, Mikol. But it is only one sword. What can it do for us?”

“It is not the only sword. There is a hidden cache of ancient runic weapons waiting for us to find it.”

“I see. You’ve been reading about King Ioyan? Those stories are just that, stories. The Sundering was a devastating war between brothers. Many people died during that time. Very few died to the likes of your weapon or any like it. They died because of greed and power.”

“But, my sword ...”

“Is truly a remarkable weapon, but it is one of a kind. It has been passed down from Archon to Archon. I hope it serves you well in the future.”

Mikol sheathed the sword and sighed.

“I still would like to speak with Voletain.”

“No, Mikol. Even if I allowed you to leave the city, it would cost us too many Wardens and soldiers to take you to Sanctuary. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you are my only son that I know is alive. I would not allow you to leave even if we were not at war. We will have much to discuss after this army has been dealt with, but for the time being you can continue to do as you wish as long as you remain safe and in the city.”

“Yes, Father. I understand. May I be excused?”

Raifaran nodded and Mikol left the throne room. He took off down a hallway and took corners at random. He did not have a destination. He barely noticed anyone else in the halls, and it slowly dawned on him people were avoiding his path. He stopped abruptly and made a servant wince and run away. There was a pain in his hand. Looking down he saw he was holding his sword tightly. He released the white-knuckled grip on Raythrael and took a deep breath. After he figured out where he was, he turned down an adjoining hall and made his way to Omoni’s study. Mikol expected the door to be locked but found that it opened soundlessly. He was glad Omoni was not inside; the tomes behind the desk were Mikol’s target. He pulled several down and opened them. The maps therein showed many of the excursions of the Wardens into Sibilova. He looked for any that were primarily in Ternia but could not find any. He had been so focused on the maps he did not hear Omoni enter.

“Hello again, Mikol. Something I can help you find?”

Mikol flinched. He sighed and looked up at Omoni. Mikol waved his hand at the maps.

“What have you found about this cache? Where in Ternia is it?”

“Who said it was in Ternia?”

“Why would it not be in Ternia? Wouldn’t it be easier to retrieve the weapons if the king had wanted?”

“Yes, it would be easier now, but you forget Valefort has not always been the capitol city, and Ternia itself is but a fraction of what it once covered. During the time of King Ioyan, Ternia covered the known world. There was no Casparan, or Sibilova, or the Savage Kingdoms.”

“OK, fine. So, if it’s not in Ternia, where is the cache? We must save my brothers.”

“You can search through my tomes all you like, but you will not find anything, because I haven’t found anything.”

Mikol looked to the tome Omoni still carried. It was the same one he had had before. Something about the tome seemed familiar, but Mikol could not place it. He started to dismiss the feeling until he remembered where he had seen the tome before.

“That’s the Archon’s personal writings. Why do you have it?”

“Voletain must have left it in my study one day.”

“We both know you are lying. Voletain never lets that tome out of his office. He hasn’t even let me look at it yet. Why do you have it?”

Omoni glared at Mikol for a moment. “I thought it might contain some hint to the location of the cache. Or maybe even the exact location, if I’m lucky.”

“Well, does it?”

Omoni walked around the side of his desk and cleared the other tomes away. He set the tome down and opened to a page he had marked. It was almost at the beginning of the book. Omoni pointed to a passage halfway down the page.

“This entry here is from the time of Archon Gorthon, the first Archon after the great war. It mentions some obelisk and discusses securing runic magic.”

Mikol read that passage and the next few. He became increasingly frustrated by how short and vague each passage had been written. He found no mention of where this obelisk had been located or what securing the magic meant. He continued to read Gorthon’s journal entries. The next couple of entries were surprisingly more vague and talked about keeping them, whatever they were, away from the people.
 

“How could this man have been Archon? The Archon has to be precise about using runes. I don’t understand what Gorthon is writing about. What does he mean, them? What people?”

“That troubled me as well, but I believe he meant the runic weapons. Unfortunately, it seems the Archon only wrote this down as an afterthought. Maybe he planned on expanding on it later. It may even be in another book somewhere, perhaps at the Sanctuary. I don’t know and haven’t found out anything else about it. That time was very chaotic, and there is little written directly after the great war.”

Mikol had to read the next line several times. Many of the words had been rendered completely illegible. The page felt greasy. Something had been spilled on the page long ago. He could make out only a couple of words.
 

...Important ... keep ... pendant ........ magic ..... war

“What does that mean?” asked Mikol.

“I don’t know. I have read that line many times.” Mikol noticed Omoni fidgeting with something underneath his cloak. “I have tried many workings and runic rituals to clean up the words, but it seems this book is protected from runic interference. I almost asked Voletain for assistance but realized he would know I had the book.”

“Do you know where to find this pendant it speaks of? Maybe we can figure out what it does if we could study it.”

“No. I haven’t found any pendant. But with such a cryptic passage about magical war, it may be for the best.”

Mikol closed the book gently and carefully picked it up. He walked around to the front of the desk and faced Omoni.

“I hope when I become Archon you will not lie to me.”

“What? I have not lied to you.”

“Then give me the pendant.” Mikol held out his hand.

Omoni looked surprised. His eyes darted between Mikol’s face and hand. After a long moment Omoni sighed, withdrew his hand from his cloak, and placed the pendant into Mikol’s hand. The small pendant reflected light off many concentric circles around a onyx central circle. Each circle had runes engraved around the edge. He knew individually what each rune represented, but in their current order they did not make sense. The entire pendant appeared to be made of silver, but the runes appeared to be made of gold.

“Have you been able to understand the pendant at all?” asked Mikol.

“I have run many workings on it as well and all have come up empty. I can tell it is a runic device and it holds power, but I haven’t been able to unlock it.” Omoni sighed again and cracked his neck. “I did not mean to lie to you, Mikol. As the Preceptor of the Wardens I have to keep many secrets of the outside world so as not to cause hysteria and chaos at home. I hope you will help Voletain to understand I have only tried to help Ternia.”

“Voletain?”

“Yes. I am sure he knows I took these items. I didn’t have the courage to give them back. Once you give them back he may be lenient if he hears it from you.”

Mikol nodded and really looked at Omoni. For the first time Mikol saw the old man in front of him. As far back as Mikol could remember, Omoni had used a cane for the injury he had suffered. Mikol now wondered if the cane helped to hold up the weight of the office too. Mikol stood a moment, deciding if he should pity or laud Omoni. Neither option seemed to fit, and it did not matter now. He shook his head slowly and walked away.

He would have to figure out a way to deal with Omoni later. Being Preceptor of the Wardens, Omoni had considerable knowledge of the world. He could be quite useful. But Mikol did not know if he could trust the man. Voletain had never spoken of the process of replacing a preceptor. Ussan’s and Eocara’s Preceptorships still were empty. Voletain had taken direct control of both groups until he could decide who would replace them.
 

Mikol had not planned on going to Voletain’s quarters but found himself for the second time that day standing in front of the study. The door had not been closed still and he walked in. Mikol stood inside the entrance and looked around. He was always in awe of the varied treasures this room held. Every time he entered he saw something new he had never seen before. He wondered if Voletain knew of all it contained. He maneuvered carefully around several piles of books and other various items. Nothing appeared to be mistreated, but it seemed to Mikol more care should be provided to the items in this room. He made his way to the bookshelf at the back of the room. It took up the entire wall. Mikol had only been able to read a few of the books on the wall. He thought with a few hundred years he might be able to read through a small fraction of them. There was a certain amount of organization on the bookshelf, though Mikol could not grasp it fully. He found no space for the tome he held.
 

Mikol turned to the enormous desk that accompanied the wall and found many of the drawers locked, though none of them looked like they would fit the tome in them either. The only drawer in which the book would fit housed a wide array of relics too delicate to be next to the large tome, especially since he would have to set the tome on its end to fit it inside. He sat down at the desk and placed the tome on the table. He had not planned on telling Voletain about Omoni taking the tome soon, but it seemed he would not be able to explain the misplaced tome so easily. He sighed and slumped back in the chair. Reaching in his pocket he withdrew the pendant to look at it again.

He twirled the chain between his fingers, watching the circles spin. The runes reflected the light from the remaining sconces in the room. He saw a red light reflected along with the soft white light from the sconces. Remembering what Raythrael had done to the sconce runes in the office earlier, Mikol looked around to see if Voletain had changed the lighting in the room. When he did not see any source of red light anywhere in the room he looked closely at the pendant. The onyx central circle was no longer blank. A faint red arrow glowed in the center. He sat up straight in the chair and placed the pendant in his hand. The arrow continued to point in the same direction. He moved his hand around, watching the center. The arrow moved and maintained the same orientation no matter how he moved. Looking closer at the arrow itself, he saw it was actually suspended above the center circle. He turned the pendant upside down and shook it, but the arrow continued to point in the same direction and floated above the center.