The Orb of Wrath (The Merchant's Destiny Book 1) (22 page)

Shortly after the magician had reached the top. The young man disappeared from his line of vision when he arrived there. Soon Erion tightened the rope slightly at the base of the cliff and waited. After a moment he felt a couple of minor pulls. It was the sign that everything was set up for them to begin ascending.

Samar went first, with great agility and ease. She was followed by the cleric, with a lot more difficulties; not so much in the first part of the course as in the second. It was obvious that this exercise was a considerable effort for Ithelas. In the end, breathless but happy, he reached his goal. They were careful that no more than two people climb at once. They wanted to climb as fast as possible without risking a broken rope; or even one of the knots loosening.

Thost then rose and then Erion, closing the group. The knight also had to make a major effort because of all the weight he was carrying: chain mail, bastard sword and large shield. Still, he managed to climb faster than Ithelas. Thost was very strong and that counted for a lot in that exercise. Erion went up without major difficulties, with the same agility as the elf.

A while later they had all reached the top of the cliff. Erion quickly picked up the rope and they all approached the base of the castle wall. There was a large rock there, under which the group waited and squatted, glued to each other. They wanted to avoid being spotted by any guard who might be patrolling on the castle wall. On the perimeter they could see that that was the only place where they could hide, and thought they were lucky that the rock was there and that Erion had been able to identify the point where they had to climb. The castle wall was about twelve steps high, and next to what they had just climbed, it was no big deal. However, as they had already agreed in the valley, the strategy of directly addressing that wall was too risky.

Erion put on a gray cloak over his shoulders that had a similar tone to that of the castle walls, and covered his head with a hood of the same color. Then he began to slide with great caution with his back perfectly glued to the wall. His mission was to confirm what he had seemed to see from the air with his dove eyes, and return to the group.

The others waited impatiently in that uncomfortable position under the rock. There was barely room for the four of them, although they were crouched and pressed against each other. It was then when they heard voices that troubled them. Someone was coming from the left flank, the opposite path were Erion had gone. The young man had told them that there was a patrol guarding the base of the wall and, according to Erion's own estimate, they took a while to complete the rounds all around the castle; probably half an hour to an hour. They had tried to synchronize the ascent to have the greatest amount of time possible. But now that time was running out. The guard was almost upon them.

“We can't wait for Erion to return. We have to take risks and go now,” Thost said.

“I think you're right,” said the elf. “We run more risk waiting than moving.”

“Let’s cross our fingers that the skylight that Erion thought he saw was not an optical effect,” the cleric said.

They began to move quickly, trying not to make noise. Soon they had reached Erion, who was crouched pulling with all his strength a steel grid obstructing a skylight, which seemed to lead to the base of the castle.

“The patrol? So soon?” the young man asked, slightly surprised to see them.

“Yes,” confirmed Thost. “Leave this to me.”

The knight leaned over and placed his big hands on the small grid. The opening in the wall was circular and would, with difficulty, let the waist of any member pass through it, but before that they had to take out the grid. However, the steel did not want to give in and, after a few more attempts, the knight made one last energetic effort. They saw how his face turned red with effort and how all his muscles were extremely tense. Finally, they heard a slight crack and the grid gave way. A new pull the knight was able to detach completely. Thost had reached the limit of his strength and, therefore, was sure he could not have opened that grid without the empowering magic had given him that morning.

Then they slipped inside, one by one. The cleric was the last to descend. With Erion and Thost's help, Ithelas put the grid in place again. Touching the bottom of the iron with his hands, he cast a new restorative spell like the one he had used in his father's chain mail that morning. He was careful not to completely repair the grid; only two points on the base to allow it to hold. Thus it would be much less effort to pull it back if for some reason they decided to try to escape from that place.

A while later they heard as the guard came to that area outside the castle. They waited hidden and impatient. The grid remained upright and only if they carefully examined it they could see that it had been tampered with. The guard passed. They had not seen them. They were inside the castle.

CHAPTER 5: THE ORB

Urlabus hated traveling, and this commission had forced him to do so more than ever. First he had to go to Norvik, to have to end up participating in that insane auction. All efforts to get there quickly had not helped at all and, ultimately, they had had to pay a crazy sum to get the item. And to make matters worse, he had to cross the Kingdom to bring the orb to its destination.

Devgon said he didn't trust anyone else to transport it. It really was a dangerous object. But that was why he built the special container! And it had cost him a lot of work. But it had not helped. In the end they could not send a soldier of confidence, no! He had to go, even though he got really dizzy when he traveled.

At least Devgon had provided a luxurious covered wagon that was drawn by four horses. His driver was professional, experienced and capable, but also surly and unhelpful. And those roads! When they crossed Bor Central it hadn't been so bad, but when they abandoned that county to enter the marks, the roads became irregular, poorly maintained, narrow and twisty. The cart kept jumping and Urlabus had gotten dizzy on several occasions. That idiot driver never heard him, when he asked them to stop.

As they passed near the capital, they were joined by an escort of eight soldiers. Four preceded the cart and the other four were guarding the rear. At least he could feel safe with that deployment. No bandit would even get a league close to them. Each time they stopped there was always a horse that took the opportunity to relieve himself. For Oris, what huge amounts of excrement! It was amazing everything that fit inside the belly of those animals.  The smell was foul and Urlabus genuinely didn't know if he got dizzier during the journey or when they stopped at a stream to let the horses rest and drink.

The distance was too great. He had been traveling almost a week in that cart and that was more than a human being could resist. At least they were almost there and they would hopefully reach their destination the next day. Once he gave the orb, he would seek a good inn to rest in a comfortable bed for several days. He'd need rest before starting the way back to the capital. He expected, at least, that that ungrateful Devgon would recognize his efforts and dedication as they deserved. If not, the next time he'd have another mission like that one, he'd have to find someone else!

Urlabus would have been happy using a portal to teleport instead of making that infernal and endless journey. But it was not advisable to go through a portal with such a powerful object like that one. The power of the orb could destabilize the portal and the result would be fatal. Urlabus had heard that magicians of great power, as the Masters in Magic, could create portals that remained stable, even when carrying the most powerful objects through them; but Urlabus had not reached that level yet. So he had to travel leagues and leagues of chariots and dusty roads.

The carriage took a new bump and jumped. Urlabus almost hit the ceiling with his head. Then he heard a bang and the cart was destabilized. The driver pulled the reins sharply while the horses whinnied scared. Soon after, they managed to stop abruptly and the cart was still twisted. Outside they could hear several men talking loudly. Finally, the driver opened the door and asked him to come down. It was no easy task given the inclination of the carriage. Despite the lack of help the driver, he got down. He carried the container, which he didn't separate from even when he was sleeping.

The last downturn had damaged the vehicle axles and it lost a wheel. It was impossible to continue. The driver took one of the horses and went back down the road to try to recover the wheel. Two soldiers accompanied him. The other six kept circling the wagon while keeping lookout on all sides.

“What is it, soldier? Why so much deployment?” the magician asked restlessly.

“Your Honor, it is a common tactic to sabotage the roads to bring a stop to the party when it is intended to launch an ambush. Many robbers use this trick. Whenever there is an accident of this type, we prefer to think the worst and be prepared. You never know,” the soldier said.

Well, this was more information than Urlabus wanted to know. Were they really in danger? Was this accident provoked? The magician was not sure, but as the minutes went by, he became more and more nervous. Where had that driver gone to? Why was he taking so long?

Somewhat later the man appeared carrying the heavy wheel in his horse. He explained that it had cost him to find it. It had shot out of the way and had gone into the field about fifteen steps away. Because the grass was so high, it had not been easy to locate. It took nearly an hour to fix the carriage and three soldiers were required to lift it, to be able to make the repairs. And it was only provisional! In the next town they would have to stop and make a more serious repair. Possibly they would have to spend the night there. Great! How horrible! Almost another day late and they still would have to stay over to sleep in a seedy village. Urlabus thought that, with the luck he had, there probably wouldn't have a decent inn there and he'd have to sleep in a stinking tavern.

The procession started off again, this time much slower. Finally, they hadn't been attacked. It really had been an accident; a more eventful journey, which Urlabus hadn't enjoyed. The magician could not wait for this mission to end.

*******

Vargarr took a deep breath and looked at both sides of the table. He was accompanied by Gorusag Fish, Marquis of Mositus, Lakajev Murin, Count of Borydos and the colonels of Mositus, Kiyats, Borydos and Golsou. The colonels leaded the troops of each territory that depended on the corresponding count or marquis. Each county also had a lieutenant who commanded the troops of the Royal Army in said territory. The deputies responded to General Bellish, so they had had to keep them out of the operation, although Vargarr knew that more than one would have willingly participated in it.

Vargarr had avoided General Bellish and had obtained a direct approval of the King for those maneuvers, but he had only informed his majesty of the participation of the Mositus and Central Bor troops. If the King had known of the scale of the exercise, he wouldn't have approved it without consulting Bellish first, and this would have wiped out the entire plan. Therefore, it was essential to keep the other majors out of it for the moment. They should also try so that the Kiyats, Golsou, and Borydos troops withdraw as soon as possible, since they really weren't allowed to participate in the exercise. Given the proximity of the border with Golsou, perhaps they could justify their presence after an orc attack alert. But Kiyats and Borydos were several days away and they wouldn't be able to explain why their troops were in that place anyway. The involved were running major risks, but the prize was worth it.

“Do you have any news about the orb?” the Marquis Gorusag asked.

“My courier just informed me that they have had a small delay. They will not come tonight as planned, but tomorrow afternoon,” Vargarr said.

“This is unfortunate. We can't waste any more time. If your majesty finds out what we're doing we'll be in very serious trouble. What if someone from the Royal Army or the Court comes to witness the maneuvers without warning?” Gorusag insisted.

“You're right. But I don't think that this small delay from our friend Urlabus is what will define the deadlines here. I heard we have an even greater delay in the trenches. Is this true?” Lakajev asked, inquisitive.

“I don't know,” Gorusag responded. Savamon?” he asked, turning to his colonel.

“Mmm ... we have a delay in this task. We do not understand what is happening. We had made maneuvers in this area before and had dug trenches. It is a clayey soil, for the most part, and usually a crew can dig a trench in an afternoon,” Savamon said. 

“Abbreviate. What's going on?” Gorusag said impatiently.

“Every time we dig a ditch, we end up finding rock at the middle of the job, so we have to move to another place and start over. In several cases we had to dig in up to five different places before finishing the trench of the corresponding regiment. But we are making progress. We are simply taking longer than expected. It's very strange. We can't understand it. Moreover, the heavy artillery is already in place and secured: catapults, crossbows and turrets.”

“When will you be completely ready?” Vargarr asked impatiently.

“I hope that at the end of tomorrow morning everything will be finished. We can confirm it tomorrow,” Savamon affirmed.

“That is another two days. At the very least!” the count of Borydos said.

Vargarr knew that the colonels of Kiyats and Golsou couldn't stand their Mositus colleague. Being neighbors there were constant rivalries. One of the major issues of dispute was the distribution of the IPF (Inter-territorial Protection Funds). These were funds that the Crown assigned through the bureaucracy of the Royal Army, to help finance the troops of the various territories; essentially they were intended to use part of the taxes to redistribute money to the marks, which were the main ones responsible for defending the border. Countless disputes had occurred between territories, at some point resulting in skirmishes between troops over the control of those funds. At present, the distribution criterion was established according to the number of leagues of the border that each mark covered, but the criterion had changed many times. Additionally, the personalities of these three colonels were very different and not fully compatible. Vargarr couldn't allow any risk of schism in that group at that crucial moment. So, he decided to lend a hand to Savamon.

“Well, let's not get nervous. I will strengthen the body of sappers of Mositus with some troops so that we can accelerate the completion of the work. In this way, we'll make sure to be ready in two days at the latest. I think more than one day is not the end of the world, but we must make sure we are well prepared,” Vargarr said.

They all agreed with this plan, though it was obvious that there was a lot of tension and nervousness in the air. Various details, such as the disposition of troops on the ground, the strategy and the different scenarios that they could expect, were studied and discussed by the group. At the end of the meeting they were all reasonably satisfied with the level of training they had. After that, the colonels took leave to return to their respective command tents. Gorusag, Vargarr and Lakajev stayed to talk a little more.

“This very night I'll return to my palace. I'd rather not be here, because of what might happen,” Gorusag said nervously.

“Wise decision. Don't worry; leave everything to me. In addition, Savamon is a very competent man and I'm sure he'll keep you well informed,” Vargarr said, glad to have gotten rid of the Marquis.

“I, too, will retire to the rear as we agreed,” Lakajev said. “So, see you tomorrow afternoon to go to the tower?”

“Yes. I'll pick you up at the start of the afternoon. The tower is not far, as you will see. There we'll start the final phase of our plan.”

The three men parted, wishing each other luck. A new chapter in the history of the Kingdom was about to begin; and they were the ones who were going to write it.

*******

Mositus mark was one of the wettest places in the kingdom of Bor. This, combined with the low temperatures of that day, made it really unpleasant to be outdoors. Today was the day that the orb should reach its destination. Sathudel waited impatiently on the top floor of the tower. A squadron of soldiers from the Royal Army from Central Bor County and loyal to Vargarr protected the place, inside and outside the tower.

Everyone who was there, except Sathudel, believed to be watching the prison of a dangerous spy, who had fallen into the hands of the troops of the Marquis. Sathudel was the only one with permission to climb to the top floor where the "prisoner" was held. He was responsible for the food that the logistics delivered daily for the maintenance of the soldiers and the prisoner himself. Actually, Sathudel ate a part of what they cooked for the prisoner and got rid of the rest.

No one could suspect that the top floor of the tower had been selected as the place to locate the mighty Orb of Wrath. Urlabus would be responsible for bringing it up there, and activating it when the time came. They expected the magician to arrive that afternoon. Sathudel was a man of Vargarr's utmost confidence and was totally loyal. He was a skillful soldier, cleverly directing the detachments of troops, which the major had understood that he was an ideal candidate for this task.

Sathudel warned the soldiers that important visitors would come that afternoon to interrogate the prisoner: the Count of Borydos, a powerful magician and Vargarr himself. But that was a top secret mission and they couldn't reveal any details to anyone. Between the history, reasonably credible, and the blind loyalty professed by their commander, no soldier suspected what was really happening.