CHAPTER FIVE
They spent several days preparing for their mission. Cassiel had organised passage to Zyran aboard a small trading ship. They had gathered all the required equipment: ropes and grappling hooks for Stella, the herbs and darts for Eben, and Red had organised a supply of fireworks. They had discussed all aspects of the plan in detail, and they knew that if they could free King Ignis he would be able to rally the people and bring back all the good men who had been sent away to Galdir and the Iron Gate Pass. The liberation of Ortaria depended on their success.
Cassiel had purchased some swords for them from a local armourer. Stella now carried a short sword at her side, and Red had a broadsword. Red was in the common room practicing with his new sword. Eben, sitting by the fireplace, watched on and was surprised that Red was actually a skilled swordsman.
‘When I was a sailor there was always the risk of being attacked by pirates on the high seas,’ said Red as he keenly practiced his cuts and stabs against thin air.
Stella sat on a chair in the corner of the room watching Red. Cassiel had gone to gather some last minute supplies for the journey. They planned to leave the following day at sunrise.
‘Are you any good with a sword?’ asked Red, glancing across at Eben as he continued to practice.
‘My adoptive father taught me how to use a sword when I was young, but I think I am a lot better at archery.’
A moment later the door opened and Cassiel walked into the common room. He quickly closed the door and bolted the lock. His face was flushed, and he was visibly shaking.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Stella, alarmed at his state.
‘I saw Zarceler on my way back here. I rounded a corner and he was across the street from me. Unfortunately he recognised me and sent his guardsmen after me. I escaped through the back lanes. I managed to lose them, but only just,’ he said.
‘Who’s Zarceler?’ asked Stella.
‘He is a Zyranian Enforcer. He is highly skilled in the art of battle magic. They send him to hunt the enemies of Zyran. He’s not someone you want to meet in a dark alley,’ answered Cassiel. Eben handed Cassiel a mug of water.
‘He was the one who attacked us at the meeting,’ said Eben, remembering that Torela had said his name.
‘Yes, that was Zarceler,’ said Cassiel, before pausing to drink from the mug. ‘Torela’s real name is Meara. Meara has been using the name Torela to hide herself from the Zyranians in Ancora. She’s an Irilian. The Irilians are the largest order of wizards in the Far Western Lands of Veredor. Long ago the Irilians and the Zyranians went to war against each other. After many battles the Zyranians scattered and almost destroyed the Irilian Order. The Zyranian Order has patronised the Irilians ever since those days. Meara came to Ancora to contest the power of the Zyranian Order and to free the lands of the east from their evil schemes, but the Zyranians are powerful and there are many of them. Few wizards are brave enough to challenge the power of Zyran. For a long time the Zyranian Order has been the most powerful order of wizards in Veredor.’
‘How many orders of wizards are there?’ asked Eben curiously.
‘There are four main orders and a few smaller groups of wizards here and there,’ replied Cassiel. ‘The Zyranians are the largest order. The Irilians live in the Far West, and they are mainly based in the land of Dravania. The Fire Order is a small and very ancient order based in the Old Guardian Mountains between Vastoria and Everdon.’
‘And the fourth?’ asked Red as he sheathed his sword.
‘The Northern Sorcerers,’ said Cassiel with a grimace. ‘The Northern Sorcerers are from the Kaznor Empire in the Northern Lands of Veredor. Their magic is very different in nature to the magic of the wizards who live in the South.’
‘How so?’ asked Eben.
‘I can’t easily explain magic; it’s very mysterious. The Irilians, Zyranians, and Fire Order all learn about the subtle potential hidden in their surroundings. They learn to manipulate this power. The Northern Sorcerers are different, they howl deep within; in the process they devour themselves and their bodies wither away, and they often hunger for power.’
‘Which wizards are the most powerful?’ asked Red.
‘The Northern Sorcerers almost always defeat the wizards of the South. Usually several wizards from the South are required to overcome a single Northern Sorcerer, and on several occasions in history a Northern Sorcerer has been so powerful that the entire Zyranian Order has had to fight them. But the magic of the Northern Sorcerers is not refined. They can’t do things like heal a broken arm or open a locked door. They’re much more likely to blast the door open. Thankfully, they rarely come south from Kaznor and if they do they tend to come alone. Two decades ago a very powerful Northern Sorcerer came south with a small army and attacked Zyran. I was a child at the time of the invasion. It was a terrible time for the people living on the island.’
Stella stood up and walked over toward the kitchen area. ‘All this talk of wizards is fascinating, but we will have to have something to eat if we’re going to be at sea for a couple of days.’
**
The following morning they rose about an hour before sunrise and did a final check on their packs before leaving the inn and walking across to the docks. Anchored against a pier was a small weatherworn ship. Sailors and dockworkers were rushing about and completing the last minute preparations before setting out. Cassiel led the way along a gangplank. The old captain, standing atop a large wooden crate, was a fiery man with a bushy black beard and a heavily lined face. He was furiously shouting commands to the sailors below. They jumped and ran about, creating quite a chaotic scene.
‘Come on ya naw good fish guts; work harda. We need da git moven! I aint pain ya to run a social club,’ he shouted, his voice was coarse and guttural.
‘Captain Orstag,’ said Cassiel as he stepped up onto the deck of the ship.
‘Not naw,’ he blurted back, dismissively waving Cassiel away. They stood on the deck as sailors ducked and weaved about them.
‘Git outda da way!’ shouted Captain Orstag down at them.
‘Where to?’ asked Cassiel, surprised at the tone Captain Orstag was taking.
‘Beelow da deck!’
They were a little taken aback by his gruffness, and it looked like Cassiel was going to say something. A moment later the fuming captain turned his back to them and began shouting at the sailors on the other side of the ship. Cassiel thought it better to hold his tongue. Red led the way down below the deck and into a dimly lit and confined area below. Barrels, wooden boxes, and many traded goods were loaded everywhere in the stuffy and exceedingly dank space. A stench of something putrid permeated the entire ship.
‘What do we do now?’ asked Stella.
‘Wait. I assume the Captain will assign us a cabin soon,’ replied Cassiel. That was the deal I made with him yesterday.’ They could hear voices toward the back of the ship.
‘I’ll see if I can find our cabin,’ said Red. He walked off toward the back and was lost from view behind large wooden crates.
Eben sat down on a barrel. ‘This is cosy,’ he said, trying to be positive.
Stella smiled bleakly; she looked down at the floor as two rats scurried around the edge of a crate and ran along an edge, jumping into a gap in the floorboards. Her bleak smile quickly turned to a deep frown, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
‘Were there any other boats?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Don’t worry; they won’t hurt you, they’re only rats,’ replied Cassiel. They could hear voices merrily shouting from the back of the ship. A moment later Red appeared with a wide smile.
‘Hey, come on. A friend of mine is here,’ said Red cheerfully.
They followed him between the crates and made their way to the back of the ship where there was a slightly cleared area. Seated on a small wooden chair was a very overweight middle-aged man, with greasy hair, dark circles under his eyes, and a big grin on his face. He was surrounded by a group of five gangly men, all with swords at their belts. Stella cautiously glanced at Eben.
‘Stella, Cassiel, Eben; I would like you to meet Falsig,’ said Red, indicating toward the overweight man.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Falsig in a throaty voice, a greasy smile crossing his face.
‘Years ago we worked together on a ship called the Gale Blazer,’ said Red, who seemed happy to have met up with his old friend.
‘Those were the days,’ said Falsig, grinning across at Red.
‘Remember when those crazy villagers thought we had stolen a pig. We had to swim five hundred yards out to our anchored ship!’ said Red, laughing as he spoke.
‘Sure do, Red. ’ said Falsig, chuckling along. ‘So why are you heading out to Zyran?’
‘Business,’ replied Cassiel coolly.
‘What kind of business are you in, Cassiel?’ asked Falsig, paying close attention.
‘Trading rare goods,’ said Cassiel quickly. ‘What about you, Falsig; why are you going to Zyran?’ asked Cassiel, turning the topic away from their mission.
‘I work for the Zyranian Order,’ said Falsig casually. ‘I bring the wizards some of the finest spices and delicacies in Veredor. Whilst I’m not travelling I help govern the kitchen in the Citadel of Zyran. I also help a little to manage the Citadel’s guardsmen.’
‘Do you think you can get us into the Citadel?’ asked Red carelessly. Cassiel’s jaw dropped as Red revealed a part of their plan, and he stared harshly at Red, obviously not wanting him to say another word. Red’s realised he had made a gaff and his eyes shifted from side to side.
‘Why do you want to get into the Citadel?’ asked Falsig inquisitively.
Red looked to Cassiel and Eben nervously, not sure what to say. Falsig could see they were uncomfortable about the subject, and he looked up to Cassiel, assuming he was the leader.
‘Why don’t we have a private talk a little later this evening,’ suggested Falsig. Cassiel agreed.
**
The Sea of Zyran was considered by most seafaring folk to be one of the finest stretches of water in all of Veredor. It was often said that the life of a fisherman was that of a blissful dream; however, in recent times few boats journeyed between the coasts of Ortaria and Zyran. It was widely told that a foul curse blew with the wind and scourged every ship that dared to sail the stretch of sea. Many of the once numerous seafarers had sailed away in search of safer waters in the south.
After the ship had set out from Ancora they had been assigned a small cabin toward the front. The sound of the waves and the ocean seemed strangely familiar to Eben, even though he had never been on a boat before. The four of them sat on the floor of their tiny cabin.
‘I shouldn’t have said anything, I know,’ said Red remorsefully.
‘Our plan is already hanging in the balance. If we start giving everyone we meet an idea of what we’re planning we are sure to be killed by the Zyranians before we even reach the front gate of the Citadel,’ said Cassiel angrily.
‘I won’t say another word,’ said Red.
‘It was stupid. You may have placed us in danger and jeopardised our plan,’ said Cassiel.
‘Falsig was a good friend once. We should be able to trust him,’ said Red, trying to reassure them, but clearly doubting his own words.
‘What about the five others standing around him?’ asked Cassiel sharply.
‘I’m sorry. What can I do about it now? I can’t take back what I’ve said.’
‘Don’t worry about it Red,’ said Eben calmly. ‘We’ll work it out. After all they don’t know anything except that we want to get inside the Citadel.’
‘But that’s enough to make them suspicious,’ said Cassiel.
There was a tapping on the cabin door. Eben stood up and reached over to open it. Falsig stood in the doorway with a big smoking pipe in his mouth and a sly grin on his lips.
‘Hello there. Thought I would come by and have a little talk. Can I come in?’ he asked, stepping inside before they had answered his question.
There was scarcely enough room in the cabin to accommodate the massive man. Somehow he managed to sit cross-legged on the floor. He continued to smoke his pipe which quickly filled the room with a thick haze. Eben closed the door and resumed his place which was now beside Falsig.
‘Red, you said you and your friends want to get inside the Citadel of Zyran?’
‘Maybe,’ said Red, not wanting to give away anything more.
‘Maybe means yes with you,’ said Falsig with a hoarse chuckle. ‘Now let me guess. You’re planning to get inside the Citadel and rob the treasury, right? It sounds like the most ridiculous thing in the world to do, and under normal conditions I’d think you wouldn’t stand a chance, but I gave it some thought, and I know Red wouldn’t try such a thing unless he thought the odds were good. That made me think the three of you,’ he indicated to everyone except Red, ‘must all be professional thieves. Am I right?’
They looked at each other, not sure what to say for a few moments.
‘Perhaps we are and perhaps we’re not,’ said Cassiel with an expressionless face. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Well, well, well,’ said Falsig, grinning widely. ‘I’ve been looking for an opportunity to move out of the kitchen and into my own palace. If we can strike a deal then I think I can get you into the Citadel.’
‘So you want to make some money?’ asked Cassiel coolly.
‘I provide the service and you pay me my money, plain and simple,’ replied Falsig, his grin extending from ear to ear. Cassiel looked to be deep in thought for a few moments. He was formulating a new plan in the space of ten seconds.
‘If you get us inside then we’ll give you a third of everything we take,’ said Cassiel with a firm tone that completely convinced Falsig. Red’s mouth fell open at Cassiel’s words.
‘We have a deal,’ agreed Falsig.
‘Good, but no more than a third,’ repeated Cassiel.
‘I accept your offer,’ said Falsig.
**
They sat in the cabin after Falsig had left. All their eyes were cast downward. They knew that Falsig was a real risk to their plan succeeding.
‘He’ll be furious when he discovers that we aren’t thieves and there is nothing in it for him,’ whispered Eben.
‘He’ll have to be happy with a third of nothing,’ whispered Cassiel with a slightly humorous smile, which was rare for him.
‘It’s not honest,’ whispered Stella.
‘It’s also not dishonest. None of us said that we were thieves; he made that assumption himself. We didn’t say we were stealing anything; he assumed that too. I said that he can have a third of what we take. He will have to be happy with a third of nothing. A deal is a deal. We need a way into the Citadel of Zyran, and we can’t tell anyone our plan. The truth is that if our plan succeeds Falsig will be rewarded in the end; he just might have to wait until King Ignis takes back his throne.’
‘You’re cunning like a Zyranian,’ said Red. ‘I think we should tell him what we’re really up to and see if he wants to help us.’
‘Firstly, I was born on the Island of Zyran; that makes me a Zyranian by birth. Naturally, I am well versed in Zyranian lore and culture. And secondly, we have to make the best of our situation and that means never letting Falsig know our real plan,’ said Cassiel firmly.
Red stared at Cassiel frostily for a few moments. ‘You’re not the leader of our group, Cassiel.’ Cassiel took a deep breath and looked away.
‘We don’t have a leader,’ said Eben. ‘We are in this together and must try to get along. We have to rely on each other to succeed. This arguing is not helping us.’
A few moments went by and no one said a word.
‘Falsig won’t be happy,’ said Red. ‘I already have enough people who want me dead. King Ignis better give him the reward after we free him.’
‘Our plan is risky to say the least. I’m willing to take any opportunity that will help us succeed,’ said Cassiel.
**
Eben and Red stood on the deck at the front of the ship looking out at the sea as the sunset cast flickering orange light across the gentle waves. Eben felt he had never seen such beauty as the light reflecting on the water.
Falsig appeared and walked over from the back of the ship. ‘What a lovely evening,’ he said, a big sly grin covering his face.
The sun was slowly sinking beneath the waves ahead. It was truly a beautiful sight. Eben felt a sense of wonder looking out over the sea at the shining light. Watching the water brought a sense of peace to his heart.
‘I’m wondering, Red. What does a thief need a bag of fireworks for?’ asked Falsig.
‘Have you been looking in my bag?’ asked Red tensely.
‘Just checking on my investment,’ replied Falsig, his grin instantly fading into a stony expression. ‘Red, I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything.’
Red looked away toward the sunset and waited for a few moments before replying. ‘The full details of our plan will remain a secret, Falsig’.
Falsig roughly grabbed Red’s arm. ‘Listen to me. If your cheating me I’ll make sure you pay,’ he said fiercely.
Eben quickly turned and immediately raised himself to his full height and clenched his fists in readiness to defend his friend. Falsig sneered up at Eben. A moment later Red smiled. He was not afraid of Falsig at all.
‘Relax, you’ll get your reward, Falsig,’ said Red as he removed his arm from Falsig’s grip.
‘Make sure of it,’ said Falsig as he turned and walked away.
‘I don’t like this. I hope I haven’t foiled our plan,’ said Red, his eyes narrowing as he watched Falsig head toward the back of the ship.
‘Maybe we should go back to our original plan of the wine barrels,’ suggested Eben.
‘No, it’s too late. He’ll probably go straight to the Zyranians if we change anything now. He can’t comprehend that we would be prepared to risk our lives for anything other than treasure, and he’s determined to get his share.’ Red glanced back out toward the sun as it descended beneath the waves. The cool evening was growing dark.