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CHAPTER THREE
Eben walked toward the north gate and found his way to a long and narrow laneway that cut away to the south. There were piles of debris and waste everywhere. The laneway was especially gloomy because the buildings on either side had high walls and very little light entered from above. He weaved his way through whilst searching for the red door. At the far end he found what he was looking for. The door was set in a very grimy stone building with no windows facing the laneway.
A black cat leapt off a ledge and knocked over some empty bottles; they fell to the ground and smashed, shattering the gloomy silence. Eben was feeling edgy; the mood of the place was oppressive.
He knocked three times and waited. Nothing happened. He knocked again. A small sliding hatch opened and an angry looking eye stared out at him from the other side.
‘Who are you and what do you want?’ asked a deep grumbling voice of a man.
‘My name is Eben, I’m looking for Torela. I was told she lives here.’ There was a short silence and the man shut the hatch abruptly.
‘Go away stranger!’ he yelled aggressively.
Eben knocked again. ‘Please, I need to talk to her. She’s the only one who can help me.’ A few moments silently passed. The door burst open and a hulk of a man stood pointing an oversized crossbow at him.
‘Don’t move!’ shouted the man as he glared down at Eben. Eben took a step back and then stood completely still. The man standing in the doorway was the biggest man Eben had ever seen in his whole life. He had deep lines in his forehead, black curly hair, and arms like tree trunks. An instant later a woman with a gentle face stepped into view from around the corner of the door. Her long hair was light brown with streaks of grey, and her eyes were remarkably turquoise blue. She wore a simple long green dress and brown leather boots. It was difficult for Eben to guess her age, but he thought she was at least forty. She studied Eben for a few moments and then glanced up to the huge man.
‘Torg, be still, he means us no harm.’ She seemed kind and peaceful in complete contrast with the fuming giant standing by her side. ‘I am Torela and this is Torg. What do you want from us?’
Eben instantly felt reassured by her. She had a sense of peace that seemed to push the gloominess away; he had a feeling she could be trusted. She also had a strange accent that he had never heard before.
‘My name is Eben. I was told that you knew Carlin when he was alive. I need to ask you some questions about him if you have time?’
She stared at him and pondered what he had just said. ‘Yes, I did know him. What is your association to him?’
‘I came to Ancora looking for him. I went to the library. An old man there told me that he had died years ago. I hoped to find him because he may have known my parents.’ She nodded slightly in response and watched him for a few moments. She appeared to be contemplating what she should do next.
‘You should come in out of the cold,’ said Torela, directing him inside and into a long hallway that led to the back of the house. Eben stepped in, and Torg slammed the door behind them, bolting it solidly with two large steel latches. Torela led Eben down the hallway which opened into a large room. The room was full of exotic luxurious goods: rich carpet covered the floors, the couches were draped in silk, and beautiful artworks adorned the walls. The room didn’t have a single window and was lit entirely by candlelight. On the far side a staircase ascended to the second level. There was also a door to their right that led into a kitchen area.
‘It’s a beautiful house,’ said Eben, his eyes glancing around the room.
‘Thank you, Eben. Please take a seat.’ Torela directed him to a comfortable cushioned chair. He sat down and she sat in the chair opposite him.
‘Eben, you said that Carlin may have known your parents. What can you tell me about this?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me something because I really don’t know much at all,’ replied Eben as he took the parchment letter from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened the letter and read it to herself. Eben saw her eyes widen as she read; she looked up at him and stared directly into his eyes for several moments. She then glanced at the sword that was latched to his belt.
‘Your sword, is it the same sword mentioned in the letter?’
‘Yes,’ he replied.
‘May I have a look?’ He nodded and handed the sword to her. She unsheathed the blade. ‘This sword is ancient. I never expected that I would ever come to hold the Ecorian Sword in my own hands.’ She studied the blade and hilt closely for at least a minute.
‘What do you know about the sword?’ asked Eben, very curious to know what she was implying.
‘I know it once belonged to the emperors of the Ecorian Empire.’
‘But why do I have it, and why did Carlin hide me away in a remote hill village?’
‘I don’t know why,’ replied Torela, handing the sword back to him. ‘However, I know that Carlin had many secrets that he never told. He never told me about you or the sword.’
‘Who exactly was Carlin?’
‘He was not from Ortaria. He came from Iarthar, a land far in the west of Veredor. He was a member of an ancient order of knights, and he was a noble warrior who worked tirelessly to protect the lands from evil.’ She paused for a moment and stared at Eben. ‘I think you should not have come to Ancora. This city is living under a terrible curse; you are not safe here. ’
‘I know we are living in dark and dangerous times, but I came because I needed answers.’
‘I understand your desire to find the answers you seek. I’m sure everything has a purpose, and I know that you have come at this particular time for a reason. I’m not sure what your purpose is yet.’ She cast her eyes down at the sword. ‘Every warrior who ever carried that sword fought for the good of all the people of Veredor.’ Her voice was calm and strong. Eben could feel in his heart that she spoke the truth. He looked down at the sword.
‘I want to help the people of Ortaria,’ said Eben, feeling a sense of conviction rise through his body. She stared at him for a little while as if she could read his thoughts.
‘Tomorrow there will be a meeting here at sunset. You may find some more answers if you come. You may also find that there are ways you can help the people of Ortaria.’
‘I will come,’ said Eben, eager to learn what he could do to help.
‘Do you have a place to stay?’
‘I’m staying with some friends at a closed down inn near the docks called The Sea Dragon.’
‘Eben, you must be careful, this city has danger lurking around every corner.’
**
It was a rarity to see people out on the streets after dark in Ancora. Only vagrants, vagabonds, and other unsavoury characters would dare go out at night. There was a good reason to be cautious as many unsuspecting folk would simply disappear into the darkness never to be heard of again. Of course there was an argument to be made that the streets were actually safer at night simply because there were fewer people around. Either way the streets of Ancora were not safe at the best of times.
Early in the evening a pair of evil eyes caught sight of something peculiar. Anyone else may have thought that a young man passing by wearing a worn leather cloak was simply one of the many vagrants making a living from the misery of the townsfolk. But a glimmer of hope, like light in the darkness, lit up the murky street, and a darkened heart for a moment caught a glimpse of its own frozen state and felt powerless.
Eben walked back along the main road toward The Sea Dragon. It was getting late and he thought it best to hurry. He passed by the palace and continued to walk toward the docks. Rounding a corner he saw a hooded man mounted on a large black warhorse. The darkness and gloom seemed to accumulate around the rider. Slowing his pace, he looked up as he passed by, attempting to appear inconspicuous. The rider’s dark eyes stared directly at Eben; most of his face was shrouded by the shadow of his hood. For a few moments they made eye contact. Eben felt a shiver rise up his spine. He glanced away and continued along the far side of the road and passed by without incident. He quickened his pace and looked back over his shoulder to see the rider hadn’t moved.
A few minutes later Eben arrived at the inn and he knocked three times on the door. It was an icy evening and a cold gale was blowing in from the sea.
‘Who’s there?’ asked Stella a few moments later.
‘Eben,’ he replied in a shivering voice.
She opened the door and smiled as she ushered him in out of the cold.
Red appeared from the bar with a smile on his face. ‘We were starting to worry about you. I’m glad to see you’re all right. Come over and have a warm glass of ale.’ Eben followed them over to the bar and took a seat.
‘Did you find any news about your parents?’ asked Stella as Red poured him a mug of ale.
‘No,’ replied Eben. ‘But I did learn a few things about my past.’ Red handed him the ale. ‘I found the library you told me about. It is in a state of ruin. I met an old man who was once the librarian there. He directed me on to a wise woman who lives near the north gate. She knew Carlin, the one who sent me to Clemensdale when I was very young, although she had never heard of me. She also seems to know what’s going on in Ortaria. I’m going to meet her again tomorrow night.’
Stella raised her eyebrows and gave Eben a troubled look. ‘You should be careful who you trust. Don’t get involved in anything that’s plotting against King Ignis unless you want to get yourself killed.’
‘She’s right,’ agreed Red, nodding soberly. ‘Everyone knows the reason we have these troubles is because the King doesn’t care for the people anymore. Nobody likes the King; anyone and everyone who has tried to do something has been thrown in the dungeon or executed for treason.’
‘Surely something needs to be done,’ said Eben.
Red took another sip of his ale. ‘True, something does need to be done, but it’s probably best left to other people.’
**
Eben found his way back to Torela’s house late the following day. The sun was setting sooner than he expected, and he was rushing because he was running late. He arrived at the laneway and quickly approached the red doorway. It was a little after sunset. A moment later the door opened.
‘You’re late,’ grumbled Torg in his deep burly voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Eben, stepping into the hallway.
‘They’re all down there,’ added Torg, pointing toward the room beyond the hall. Torg then closed and bolted the door.
Eben walked down the hall and came to the large furnished room. A group of about twenty people were seated in a semicircle. They were facing the far side where Torela was standing and speaking to them.
‘....all of you have heard the rumours and have seen what is happening in Ancora. You know the darkness continues to grow.’ She looked to Eben and directed him to a seat as she spoke. ‘Each one of you is here because you are concerned. Each one of you is here because you care for the people of Ortaria and you want to see an end to all the villainy and evil.’
‘How can we do anything if King Ignis won’t listen to the people? Years ago he cared for us, and now he refuses to hear our cries for help,’ said a man in response.
Torela nodded and paused for a moment before speaking, ‘True, he doesn’t listen. He refuses to give audience to anyone. He seems to have changed and hardened. He once was a much loved and honourable man. Three years ago everything changed, and for a long time there has been no explanation or reason. No one has known why, but tonight I believe you will learn the truth,’ she said, and her words stunned the people. ‘I want to introduce to you a young man named Cassiel. He was once a student of the magic academy on the island of Zyran. You will want to hear what he has to say.’
A tall and handsome young man stood up and walked over to stand beside Torela. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and was wearing a long brown coat. Cassiel held his chin high and his shoulders back and had a certain sense of pride about him. He had carefree dark hair, dark eyes, and a fair complexion.
‘Thank you, Torela,’ he said and she took a seat. He looked down at the group seated before him and cleared his throat before speaking. ‘For you to understand what I have to tell you I first must inform you of a few details about myself and also about the Citadel of Zyran. Firstly about myself: I was once an apprentice at the Magic Academy of Zyran. Seven years ago I began my training; many of you know such training is rigorous and takes over a decade to complete. Honestly, I was never a talented wizard; nevertheless, I always worked hard and committed myself to the study of magic, and in my first year or two it was a pleasure to learn.’
Cassiel scanned the faces of the group and for a moment he glanced at Eben. He drew a long breath before continuing. ‘And secondly, what many of you probably don’t know is that beneath the Citadel of Zyran there is a dungeon where the Zyranian Order keeps only the most dangerous prisoners. The dungeon is the home of rogue sorcerers, tyrants, and other evil individuals. The prison is bound by an ancient and very mysterious enchantment which makes the stone and hewn rock impenetrable. There is no way to break in, and it’s impossible to break out. The only way in and out of the dungeon is through the main prison gate and a single corridor that leads down into the dungeon. The only way to open the dungeon gate and the cell doors is by using a magical key which is held by the Gatekeeper of Zyran.’
He paused for a moment, catching his breath. The whole group were listening intently.
‘The dungeon door is guarded at all times by two wizards of the academy. About three years ago I was placed on guard, which I might add is a particularly tedious job. Late that night, when I was nearing the end of my watch, I was approached by two wizards who were leading a man. The man’s face was covered by a cloth sack. It’s not unusual to see wizards in Zyran, especially within the grounds of the Citadel, but these two were two of the most important wizards on the island. Baltac at the time was the second in command of the Zyranian Order, and Trebax was and still is the Gatekeeper of Zyran. You also know that Baltac is now the High Commander of the Zyranian Order and the Lord of Zyran. I wondered why the prisoner’s face was hidden. As they came back up from the deep I overhead Baltac say that Ortaria was defenceless now that the fool was locked away.’
There was a gasp among those seated.
‘Are you saying they imprisoned King Ignis? Why would the Zyranian Order do such a thing? The Zyranian Order has stood by us for centuries. Surely they are our allies,’ said an old man near the front.
‘Let me tell it plainly: I believe the Zyranians have taken an evil path and are working to sow seeds of wickedness in our lands. I also believe you are being ruled by an imposter. The real King Ignis is imprisoned in the Dungeons of Zyran.’
‘We must free him!’ shouted a woman who was seated next to Eben. The group started talking frantically. Eben could hear the outrage and shock in their voices. Torela stood and turned to the group.
‘Please listen,’ she said. The room fell silent. ‘With Cassiel’s help we have devised a plan to free the King. Cassiel, if you would please describe the plan.’
Cassiel nodded and waited for the room to become completely silent. ‘It will not be easy. You have been called here because you are trusted, and we need some volunteers to complete this difficult task. Firstly we must sneak into the Citadel of Zyran. Secondly we must steal the key from Trebax, the Gatekeeper of Zyran; thirdly we must get to the dungeon gate without being seen, and last of all, we must free the King and safely escape the island. There is no way that any of us could take on the full force of the Zyranian Order, and the Citadel also has a dedicated group of one hundred highly skilled guardsmen. It is extremely important that we don’t get seen and we complete this mission in secret. The wizards are very powerful and wouldn’t hesitate to kill us if we were discovered.’
There was a silence as the group absorbed all that Cassiel had said. The silence was suddenly broken when Torg rushed down the hallway from the front of the house.
‘My Lady, palace guardsmen are entering the laneway!’ he cried.
Torela remained calm and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Everyone in the room looked up at her, waiting for her guidance. A few moments later her eyes opened. She looked up at Torg.
‘Torg, lead the people out the back door. We have been discovered. They are coming for us,’ she said. Everyone in the room stood up quickly. Torg drew his massive two handed broadsword.
Eben could feel the ground begin to shake. A groaning and screeching sound resonated down the hallway. They looked toward the entrance. An explosion blasted from the front door and shook the entire house. A wave of fire approached them at a blistering speed from the hallway, setting fire to everything in its path.
Torela lifted her hand; a ray of blue light issued forth creating a rippling energetic barrier which shielded them from the approaching fire. Eben drew his sword as Cassiel moved to stand beside Torela. The room emptied of people as Torg led the group through the kitchen and out the back door. Only Torela, Cassiel, and Eben remained in the room. The intense flames suddenly faded away. A man in a dark cape stood at the entrance to the hallway.
‘Meara,’ he grunted, his eyes full of hate. His lips curled down at the edges with malice. He was entirely bald which seemed to increase the look of brutality that was etched into his features. ‘I thought the Irilian Order had agreed to stay out of the Eastern Lands.’
‘That agreement ended when the Zyranians decided to turn against the people of Veredor,’ said Torela. ‘The Irilians work for the good of all people, you know that, Zarceler.’ At the sound of his own name the caped man smirked and stepped forward as a group of guardsmen dashed down the hallway to stand behind him.
‘Oh yes, how noble of you,’ said Zarceler mockingly, with an evil grin from ear to ear. Zarceler raised his hand. There was a flash of red light. Beams of orange energy burst through the air toward Torela. Torela lifted her hands and blue light streamed forth creating a barrier that looked like a transparent shimmering wall of energy. It shielded them from the hissing fiery energy blasts. Zarceler didn’t stop bombarding the shield with his sinister attacks. They hissed and smashed into the barrier.
A moment later a group of brutish guardsmen appeared in the kitchen at the back of the house.
‘Cassiel, take Eben and get out of here!’ cried Torela. Cassiel raised his hand and hurled several orbs of fire at the approaching soldiers in the kitchen. The blasts knocked the soldiers back, and they all tumbled away.
‘We can’t leave you!’ shouted Cassiel.
‘You must go!’ she cried out, looking back over her shoulder. ‘Please, Cassiel. Go!’ Cassiel hesitated for a moment and then turned toward the stairs.
‘Quick, up the stairs,’ cried Cassiel, pushing Eben across the room toward the staircase. Eben climbed the stairs in seconds and reached the door at the top. The door opened out into a large bedroom. At the far side of the room there was a small window. Eben went to the window and started to open it. Cassiel was not far behind.
‘No! Eben, climb the ladder to the roof!’
Cassiel locked the door and touched the handle. He muttered some words under his breath; an orange light streamed forth from his hand and entered the door causing it to instantly lock. In a heartbeat Eben had climbed the ladder and pushed open the trapdoor. A moment later he was on the empty rooftop. The whole house was shaking from the raging battle inside between Torela and Zarceler. Eben stood with his sword in hand as Cassiel climbed onto the roof after him.
‘Eben, run and hide. I’m going back down there to help Torela.’
‘I’ll come too,’ said Eben, not wanting to leave them to fight Zarceler and the soldiers alone.
‘No!’ said Cassiel firmly. ‘She wanted you out...’ His words were cut short.
The entire building started to groan and shake under their feet. A moment later it began to collapse around them. Cassiel managed to scurry across and grab onto the solid wall of the adjoining house, but Eben slipped backward over the edge. For a few moments he fell, completely losing control. His back struck the solid ground as a dust cloud from the collapsing building blasted out into the surrounding alleyways and lanes. He slowly got to his feet and picked up his sword. After a dazed moment he started to move down the alleyway and out of the dust. He could feel his left leg was aching and his head was throbbing from the fall. He turned and saw a great pile of rubble where Torela’s house had once stood. Cassiel was nowhere in sight.
‘Find them! I want them dead or alive!’ cried Zarceler’s furious voice in the distance.
Eben limped away as quickly as he could into the darkness and edged down through a thin gap between two buildings that opened up into a small square. He crossed the square and moved through a laneway full of waste and rotting food.
‘This way!’ shouted a voice from behind him. Eben looked over his shoulder and could see a group of soldiers in the distance. They hadn’t noticed him yet, and he glanced around for somewhere to hide. There was a wooden crate full of waste. He jumped in, covering himself as they approached. They passed by, not noticing the crate or the young man hiding within. Lying completely still in the rot and stench he waited until all was quiet.
After a short time he lifted his head and looked over the top of the crate in the direction the guardsmen had gone. The laneway was empty. He climbed out of the crate and started searching for a side laneway to escape. He found a long and thin alley that led back in the direction of the north gate. Dragging his aching leg he quietly staggered forward. The pain was also growing in the back of his head, and blood was dripping down the back of his neck. Shouting voices echoed through the lanes and alleys behind him. He hurried along and moments later the lane opened out onto the main street that led from the north gate back toward the palace.
He crossed the road and ducked into a back street on the opposite side. He gradually stumbled his way through a network of narrow lanes and alleys until he arrived at the docks. An icy wind blew across the docks. Completely exhausted he found the door of The Sea Dragon and almost collapsed on the doorstep as he struggled to knock. A few moments passed before Stella opened the door.
‘What happened to you?’ asked Stella, stepping out and gently taking him by the arm.
‘Really, I’m fine,’ he said as he unsteadily made an attempt to step through the doorway.
A moment later Red was at the door. ‘By Teodric! Eben. You smell like rotting fish,’ he said, grinning.
‘This isn’t a time for jokes,’ shouted Stella. ‘He’s badly hurt.’
‘No really, I’m fine...’ whispered Eben as he started to lose consciousness.
Stella lay him down on the floor of the common room. ‘Get some clean cloth from under the bench in the kitchen! And get some water!’ Red’s smile disappeared instantly. He ran off quickly to the kitchen.
Eben looked up at Stella. She stared down at him; her green eyes full of concern for him.
‘Eben, you will be fine. Everything is going to be...’ Those were the last words he heard that night. Everything went dark.