CHAPTER SIX
It was late in the afternoon on the second day after leaving Ancora. The ship crossed a small bay and was approaching the docks. Eben looked out at the sight of the Citadel of Zyran that towered ominously above the docks. At least a hundred stone towers rose high into the sky above and a weblike network of dozens of stone bridges linked the towers together. A massive grey stone wall, at least a hundred and fifty feet high, completely surrounded the Citadel. Hundreds of ravens circled in the gloomy haze above the towers, and dark murky clouds hung low in the sky.
Cassiel, Red, and Stella stood with Eben toward the front of the deck; they stared out at the Citadel as the ship neared the docks.
‘It looks intimidating,’ said Stella.
‘The wizards of Zyran are by far the most cunning in all of Veredor. We must be careful,’ said Cassiel, looking up at the Citadel uneasily.
The ship slowly approached and entered under the dark cloud which hovered not far above the tops of the towers. The gloominess was oppressive. The area of the docks was about three hundred feet down from the edge of the wall of the Citadel. A large village made up of many huts and small houses surrounded the dock area. The sailors threw ropes and tied the ship to the dock. Captain Orstag began yelling at his sailors.
Falsig approached as the ship came up beside the docks. The sailors rushed about and secured lines and placed a gangplank. Eben and the others were preparing to disembark. ‘You would be wise to get a room in the inn over there,’ said Falsig, pointing toward a large inn at the edge of the village. ‘I’ll meet you at the bar around noon tomorrow, and we’ll discuss our dealings in more detail.’ He shuffled down the gangplank and was followed by his five shadowy companions.
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Stella, grimacing as she watched Falsig walk away. Eben nodded in agreement.
Cassiel walked down the plank and across the docks. Eben, Stella, and Red followed him across the way and up the slight slope toward the inn. The sign above the door read: ‘The Lost Mermaid,’ and had a faded picture of a sad mermaid sitting on a beach. It was a large stone building with an upper floor and a gabled roof. Cassiel pushed the door open and stepped in. Eben, Stella, and Red followed Cassiel’s lead.
The common room was crowded and very warm with large open fire burning at the far end. Groups of men filled most of the tables and many others stood at the bar. A long bar stretched along the wall on the right side of the room.
Cassiel stopped and scanned the room. He then leaned toward Eben. ‘Some of these people could be dangerous, so be cautious and discreet. I’m going to see if we can reserve some rooms for tonight.’ He then turned and walked toward the bar. No one in the room seemed to notice the small group of newcomers.
‘Let’s take the table in the corner,’ said Red. They walked over and sat down. ‘At least this place is warm. I remember staying here once a few years ago when I was a sailor.’ He looked toward the big open fire across the room; the flames were burning brightly. ‘I’m going to get us some drinks.’ Red jumped up out of his seat and approached the bar.
Cassiel returned at the same time as Red. ‘We have rooms on the upper floor,’ he said as he took the spare seat at the table. A barmaid walked over and placed the three ales down on the table in front of the three of them.
Cassiel’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the three ales. He looked up at Red and raised an eyebrow. ‘You don’t like me much do you, Red?’
‘Sorry Cassiel, you were talking with the innkeeper. I didn’t know how long you would be gone,’ said Red defensively. Cassiel stared at Red for a few silent seconds. He then stood up and walked over to the bar to buy himself a drink.
‘Zyranians,’ muttered Red when Cassiel was out of earshot.
Stella eyed Red with a harsh frown. ‘Cassiel is our friend, Red. At least try to get along with him.’
Red looked down at the table and nervously scratched his forehead. ‘I’ll respect him when he shows me a little respect,’ he muttered.
Eben was aware that tension had been growing between Cassiel and Red ever since the two of them met back in Ancora. Red was rarely serious and always tried to turn everything into a joke. Cassiel was almost always serious and stern in demeanour and rarely had time for joking around.
Cassiel returned to the table with a mug of ale. He sat down and took a sip. ‘I visited this inn regularly when I was studying at the academy,’ said Cassiel, glancing around the room nostalgically.
‘How far did you get into your training?’ asked Eben.
‘Seven years,’ replied Cassiel. He then took another sip of his ale. ‘I was cast out of the academy.’
‘Why were you cast out?’ asked Stella.
‘That’s something I don’t like to talk about; it was a rather unpleasant experience. I will say that I was glad to see the end of my time there. When an apprentice is cast out they can never return to the Citadel and they are forbidden to practice magic,’ he said soberly.
Before long a barmaid appeared with steaming plates of mutton and vegetables. They hungrily devoured their meals before retiring to their beds.
**
The next day was less gloomy. Eben looked out of his window; the dark clouds had reduced above the Citadel. Sunlight was pushing its way down through small gaps in the sky. The Citadel of Zyran was a daunting sight; it dominated the skyline above the small village. Eben could see a large group of guards marching across the top of the wall in the distance.
There was a knock at his door. Cassiel stepped into Eben’s room.
‘Good morning, Eben. I think we should go down to the docks and buy a small boat. We’re going to need one to leave after we finish our mission here.’
‘How do you feel about the plan now that we are here?’ asked Eben as he stood at the window and continued surveying the immense dark walls of the Citadel.
‘I hope we can succeed,’ replied Cassiel. ‘Falsig has made our task more challenging; hopefully he won’t be a problem until after King Ignis is safely away from here. Stella’s task is very dangerous. I think it is doubtful that Trebax will leave the dungeon key out of sight. If he sees her he will not hesitate to kill her.’
‘Maybe we should find another way,’ suggested Eben, feeling concerned for Stella.
‘There is no other way into the dungeon. Only the key will open the prison door and the doors to the cells within. We are the only people who know King Ignis is imprisoned in the Dungeons of Zyran. If we fail then we fail.’
Eben stood up and put on his leather cloak. Cassiel led the way down the stairs and out of the inn. They walked across to the bustling area of the docks. Sailors were offloading crates and barrels from a large ship that had only just come into port. Across the docks, on the southern side, was a smaller pier set apart from the main docks. A few smaller fishing boats were moored to the pier. Eben and Cassiel approached the smaller pier.
An old man was fixing a net at the edge of the dock. He was a bearded short man with a very big nose, weathered skin, and a dirty old sailor’s hat with a big eagle’s feather attached.
‘Hello there,’ said Cassiel as they approached.
The man glanced up at Cassiel as he continued to fix his net. ‘Hello to you too.’
‘Can you tell me where I could buy a boat?’
The old man stopped fixing his net and looked up. ‘A boat? You don’t look like a sailor or a fisherman.’
‘I’m neither,’ said Cassiel coolly.
‘Perhaps you’re wishing to sail the wild seas and see some far off lands. I’ve been around sea folk for a few years now, and I know a sailor when I see one. Let me give you some free advice: if you sail out to sea without experience you’ll be sailing to your grave,’ said the old man with a slight chuckle.
‘I appreciate your interest, but if you can’t assist me I will ask someone else,’ said Cassiel impatiently. The old man laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ asked Cassiel.
‘You don’t remember me do you, Cassiel?’
Cassiel’s eyes widened as he suddenly recognised the old man. ‘Baftel!’ he cried, stunned by the sudden revelation. Eben looked from Cassiel to the old fisherman. Baftel threw his net aside and stood up. ‘What brings you to Zyran?’
‘I was going to ask the same question of you,’ said Baftel.
‘What are you doing here? I heard you were banished from the Zyranian Order,’ stammered Cassiel.
Baftel sighed and looked around nervously. ‘Yes, I was banished from the Citadel and cast out of the Zyranian Order. The Zyranian High Council voted seven for my death and eight for my banishment.’ He sadly glanced back across the docks to the walls of the Citadel of Zyran. ‘I have watched as the shadows have grown in Zyran. The dark cloud constantly hovers over the island, but this morning, for the first time in years, the sun seemed to find a way through.’ The old man looked to Eben for a moment. ‘I believe there may be reason to hope again.’
Cassiel, still pale with shock, slowly regained his regular composure.
‘I heard you betrayed the Zyranian Order and were forbidden to practice magic,’ said Cassiel.
Baftel flinched at hearing Cassiel’s words and then nodded his head sadly. ‘Yes, I heard that was their story. The real truth was hidden beneath a shroud of lies. Now I don’t suppose it matters. I can never again enter the Citadel of Zyran. I have enjoyed fixing nets and fishing for the last five years. The life of a wizard was always full of adventure, but fishing is much more fun.’
‘Can you help us find a boat to sail to Ortaria?’ asked Cassiel.
‘As I said, sailing these seas would be dangerous for someone without any experience,’ replied Baftel, shaking his head.
Cassiel looked out to sea and then back to Baftel. ‘Can you take us back to Ortaria, Baftel?’
‘I only have a twenty foot fishing boat. You would be better off going on one of the larger trading ships.’
‘I can’t wait for one of those ships. When I have to leave Zyran I will need to leave at once. I can pay you, Baftel,’ said Cassiel.
Baftel’s eyes narrowed. He glanced away, and a deep frown crossed his face. He picked up his net and walked down the pier a little before he answered.
‘Cassiel, I know you’re an outcast like me. I wonder why you would want to come back to Zyran in these dark times. There’s only a coastal village here, and we both know you can’t go into the Citadel. Am I correct in supposing that you are involved in something untoward?’ Cassiel ignored the suggestion as Baftel threw his net into an open deck sailboat and then walked back to the two of them. ‘I remember when you were at the academy. You never did like taking direction, and you always had a very strong will. I only hope whatever you have planned doesn’t kill you and your friend. Your enemies may know more than you realise.’
‘What do you see?’ asked Cassiel nervously. He knew Baftel was renowned for his ability to see what was hidden.
‘A candle left out in the rain. Sharks circling a man stranded at sea. You have brought hope into a place of shadows. You are like a man wading in the rough waves with an oil lantern in his hand,’ said Baftel, seeming troubled by his own thoughts.
‘Do you think my plan has been discovered?’ Baftel looked to Eben for a moment and then back to Cassiel; the strain was visible on his face.
‘There’s a greater plan at work.’
‘Can you help us? You say that I have brought hope to Zyran; would you help that hope?’ Baftel drew a long breath and then whispered something they could not hear. A long silence followed before he answered.
‘I will take you back to Ortaria if you succeed.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cassiel, bowing to the old man.
‘You will have to come and tell me when I should be ready for the journey.’
‘I will,’ said Cassiel.
**
They walked back toward the inn and Cassiel seemed troubled by some of the things that Baftel had said.
‘Who is he?’ asked Eben, curious to know more.
‘Baftel was once the leader of the Seers of Zyran. They were a minor fraternity within the Zyranian Order. They focused on developing an ability to see the true nature of what lies beneath the surface and what lies beyond normal perception. Five years ago Baftel was accused of using his powers to plot against the Zyranian Order. He was banished from the Citadel and cast out of the Zyranian Order. I’m concerned that he has foreseen trouble ahead for us.’
‘Could we be walking into a trap?’ asked Eben.
‘Perhaps,’ said Cassiel uneasily.
‘Should we change our plan?’
‘No, the longer we stay here the more at risk we are. This is our one chance,’ he said as they reached the door of The Lost Mermaid.
**
At noon the four friends were seated in a small private room that was set off from the main common room. The table was large and hardly fit into the confined space. Falsig was seated across from them and was grinning slyly. They all felt uncomfortable in his presence. His pungent body odour drifted across the table.
‘I assume you are ready to start the undertaking at any moment,’ said Falsig. He slurped on a large mug of ale.
‘That’s correct,’ said Cassiel with a stony expression.
‘Good. Tonight there is a banquet in the hall of the Citadel and nearly all the Zyranians will attend. I’ve brought a group of servants up from the village to help with preparations and to work in the kitchen. Tonight, shortly after nightfall, I will let the servants out through the supply gate to return home to the village. Wait by the gate; I’ll let you in after I let them out.’
He took another gulp of his ale and a moment later burped. Stella averted her eyes in disgust. Falsig saw her expression and smirked. ‘There are a few conditions,’ he continued. ‘If you get caught you never knew me, and be sure I will not let you out of the gate without getting my share of the loot. If you try anything shifty I’ll have you buried.’
‘We will be waiting at the gate after dark,’ said Cassiel.
‘I’ll see the four of you tonight.’ Falsig skulled his remaining ale. He then stood up and nodded with approval before walking from the small room. A moment later he was gone.
‘He is the foulest man I have ever met,’ said Stella, grimacing at the thought of him.
‘What do you think?’ asked Eben, looking across to Cassiel.
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Cassiel. ‘But this is our only chance to free King Ignis. I will tell Baftel to be ready to leave tonight.’