Chapter Eight

[Mythonian]

CHAPTER EIGHT




After hearing from the rivermaster that the city was on high alert due to the trade official being murdered and that they’d be delayed an extra day as a result, Tranan headed back into the city. On his way back to the Delirious Sailboat Inn, he noticed that his distinctive Mages Guild robes seemed to make him stand out, and he was getting more than a few looks of contempt. Tranan was well aware that relations between Triln and Gellantara had been tense these last few years, but he didn’t think it had spread to the average citizens as well.

Two years ago, the underground organization Teir attempted to assassinate Lord Davben. The lord’s wife was the only victim of the attempt, and Teir’s hideout was subsequently found and raided by Triln’s forces. Afterward, a search for those that funded and hired the assassins ensued, and the primary suspect was Mark Anders, a Gellantaran official that had been in the city for some negotiations at the time, and who fled the city shortly after of the assassination attempt. Gellantara has vehemently refused to hand him over for interrogations, and as a result all negotiations broke down, and the two years since have been filled with discontent.

This had been compounded by the fact that Trannyth, another port city downriver from Triln, had been growing rapidly and Gellantara no longer dominated sea trade in the region. Considering this, Tranan was only mildly surprised at the looks he was getting, but he just hoped it wouldn’t escalate into actual conflict. While the two cities have long been at odds with each other, they have not had any open hostilities before. Tranan wasn’t happy about being stuck here for an extra day.

He also wasn’t happy with being on the streets and receiving the looks he was getting. However, he wanted to find out a little information first, especially information about the assassination that occurred the previous day. He stopped at a nearby tavern to inquire about this. The barkeep looked him up and down a few times, giving him a similarly contemptuous look as those on the street, but when Tranan ordered a drink the man relaxed a bit. The barkeep sparked up the conversation, “Must say, I haven’t seen a mage in person before. Do you want to pay in coin or are you going to entertain us with magic tricks?”

Tranan couldn’t help but crack a smile at this. “Coin, actually, but perhaps some magic tricks later on. I just came into town earlier, and it seems the City Guard are at every street corner. Did something happen?”

“Aye, Mark Anders got assassinated last night. In his own home, too. From what I figure, he pissed off the wrong people, and boy did it cost him. I guess being the master of all sea trade and practically owning half the harbor came back to bite him… Some say he was gaining too much influence in the city and the duke decided to oust him forcibly.” Tranan perked up a bit at this. Mark Anders, killed the very night before they arrived in the city. Was this random coincidence, or was something else going on? He needed to inform the others of the delay and of this relevant news.

Getting up and leaving immediately might draw suspicion, which would be even worse. If Gellantara is going to choose a scapegoat for this, someone from Triln would be the perfect choice… He swallowed hard, but kept his outward composure and slowly finished his drink before leaving the bar. He hurried back toward the inn, but it was already late afternoon before he arrived. The common room was mostly empty, but there were a few people around. The only ones Tranan took notice of, though, were Darvyn and Belkas, two of the knights tasked with escorting himself and his students during their field research. As he approached them, Belkas called out, “Welcome back. You missed the party.”

Tranan’s confused look must have been enough of a response, as Darvyn promptly explained, “While you were gone, a few of us looked around the town a bit. On the way back, however, we were followed by someone who at first seemed to be simply curious, but then decided he’d stick around and spy on us. After a while, he attacked Holland in his room upstairs, and while fleeing, jumped out of the third story window. Somehow he then escaped the guards while running through the streets.”

The archmage raised an eyebrow at this. All of these developments were beginning to worry him. “Was this just a boy doing something stupid, or do you think this was something planned against us?”

Darvyn answers, “When we were looking around the town, we heard a few more details about the assassination last night. A witness described the assassin as having dark hair and green eyes, and wearing blackened leather with a cloak covering much of his face. The man that followed us was dressed differently, but his hair was dark and I think he had green eyes, although I never got a close look at him. The man was also rather skilled in unarmed combat, according to Holland. On top of that, he was able to land safely from three stories and then escape the guards while running through the streets. They might be the same person.”

Tranan frowned at this. Not only did the assassination happen so close to their arrival, but after a few hours of arriving the assassin attempts something in broad daylight? Something strange was definitely going on, and being stuck here an extra day is just making matters worse. Something that confused him about this entire situation, though, was how their arrival could have been noted or predicted. They told almost no one about their departure and left Triln as soon as the gate rose. Gellantara should not have heard anything at all about their approach.

He looked toward the two knights, “You may very well be right about that. Whatever is going on, they’re trying to have us be involved in some way. Also as a part of the investigation going on, the riverboat is grounded. We’re going to be stuck here for an extra day. Take some precautions and let’s have someone on watch throughout the night. I’m going to go inform the others about the extra day.” The two knights nodded and agreed that a watch is best, and Tranan spent the next several minutes letting everyone in their inn rooms know about the situation, and he then retired to his own room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he pondered about what to do…

---

The following morning, most of the knights and mages are eating the first real breakfast they’ve had in a week. The only ones absent are Shalak and Odran, the two knights that were on watch for much of the night. A few of them were talking about the incident from the previous day where a strange man followed and spied on them, and then proceeded to attack one of the knights before escaping.

Darvyn was speaking, “Overnight, I think I realized something. Two years ago, when the assassination attempt on Lord Davben occurred, the organization behind it, Teir, was destroyed and nearly all of its members executed. However, a few managed to escape and fled the city, and I think the man yesterday not only assassinated the trade official, but was also a member of Teir. It explains why he had such an interest in knights from Triln, and he did say he had come to Gellantara from Triln when we met him on the street…”

Tranan had been staying out of the conversation, instead trying to think of the best way to stay uninvolved with whatever plot was happening, but he started to pay attention after hearing Darvyn say this. Tranan had decided not to mention Mark Anders or tell them he was the victim of that assassination, but apparently there were more details and Darvyn’s guess that the assassin is a surviving member of Teir was a bit disconcerting.

Belkas responded, “But why would he risk so much just to find out about why we were here? He barely managed to escape. I didn't get the impression he was some master assassin or anything, although I must say his escape through the window was impressive.”

Darvyn spoke again, “Well, he did manage to escape, so I don't think we can underestimate him. We're stuck here for a day and he knows where we are. I don't think it's safe for anyone to go alone, especially any of the mages." He turned to where a few of the robed mage students were eating, "Hear that? Don't go anywhere without someone able to watch your back, got it?” They nodded, some of their eyes widened.

The conversation took a more light-hearted turn, and two of the knights ended up leaving the inn after a few minutes, though Tranan was paying little attention. After a bit, he turned toward the remaining two knights, making him realize that the two who just walked out were Cypha and Holland, since Darvyn and Belkas are the only ones left. He spoke, “I need to check on something in the city, and I’d like one of you two to accompany me.”

They hesitated a moment, but Belkas turned to Darvyn, “I’ll hold down the fort. Shalak shouldn’t be asleep too much longer anyway.” Darvyn nodded and stood, and a few moments later they were walking down the street northward.

Darvyn spoke, “Might if I ask what this is about?”

Tranan stayed silent for a few seconds, but eventually explained, “The person that got assassinated was Mark Anders.” Darvyn took a moment to recognize the name, and his face grew serious as Tranan continued, “If your assumption is right and the assassin is from Teir, it might mean that the group isn’t as dead as we thought. They might have known we were coming to Gellantara and Anders might have been a liability that they needed removed to cover their tracks.”

Darvyn considered this for a bit while they turned down a side street. “If that’s true, could they now be targeting us? Shouldn’t we warn the others?”

Tranan shakes his head a few times, “No, I don’t think so. From what you and Belkas said it sounded like the assassin simply wanted information about our intentions here. They likely knew we were approaching the city, but had no idea why. They played it safe to kill off Anders and after failing to get information from us they’re probably still playing it safe. We likely won’t be seeing any signs again, they’ll be laying low for a while, I think.”

“Makes sense, but that doesn’t explain why we shouldn’t let the others know about this…”

“Teir is trying to hide. If we go out of our way to hunt them down, they will retaliate like any cornered animal would. My students are not fighters, and anyway we have a more important mission to take care of. Lord Davben himself is waiting for our research findings, if you’ll recall, and these new developments are sure to pique his interests as well.” Darvyn just nodded at this, and after a few more seconds Tranan stops walking. “Ah, here we are.”

They were standing in front of a small mansion. A massive, two story structure complete with trimmed shrubbery and decorative balconies. Darvyn raised an eyebrow toward Tranan, but the archmage simply walked forward to where several guards were stationed at the main entrance. Once within a dozen yards or so, one of the guards called out harshly, “Halt! This area is off-limits to passersby. Be on your way.”

Tranan responded, his voice sounding formal, “I am here to meet with Burnett, the new master of the house, though through absolutely tragic circumstances.”

The guard appeared unswayed, “Master Burnett is not taking visitors today.”

Tranan takes another step forward, “I believe he is expecting me. Please, inform him that Archmage Tranan of the Mages Guild is here to meet him.” The guard’s brow furrows, and it takes a few moments for the man to make the connection between Tranan’s robes and the position he just claimed to have. After a few moments of uncertainty, the guard nodded for one of the others to head inside and deliver the message.

It took several minutes before the guard returned, but eventually he stepped into the doorway, “Master Burnett will see you now.” Tranan quickly told Darvyn to wait for him here and then began striding inside confidently.

---

The bowshot broke the silence between Alithana and the elf Aimar. He tried to react and quickly turned his head, but an instant later the arrow planted itself firmly in his left shoulder. A cry of mixed pain and surprise accompanied Aimar staggering back a step, and Alithana did not let him regain his composure. She had already covered half of the 20 yards between them, and was preparing to thrust forward with her staff. She knew that any opening, any opportunity, was something she needed to take advantage of.

Aimar was an elf much older than her, and was a combat veteran. While he wasn’t able to avoid the arrow, he knew what would be coming next, and Alithana found her thrust parried with his sword and Aimar’s attention back on her. Even for an elf, his recovery and movement was quick and obviously those of an expert, but while he managed to block the attack he had not yet regained his full balance. She pressed forward, maintaining a flurry of strikes to keep him on the defensive. Even though his shoulder was injured he was still able to wield his sword with both hands firmly. While his focus seemed to be on her, she knew that part of his attention was on watching and listening for any other surprises that might come from the woods. Catching him off-guard with a bowshot would be much less likely now, so she would have to force an opportunity.

As every second passed, Aimar began taking more and more advantage over the fight, and Alithana was seeing fewer openings for strikes. She had not been able to land a single blow, and now she was forced more and more to parry and block. Aimar seemed to alternate between two-handed slashes and one-handed jabs, and Alithana was quickly becoming exhausted fending them all off. He brought his sword far to one side and began an arching horizontal slash as he took a step forward. She ducked low, her small stature allowing her to easily stay beneath the blade, and she kicked out sharply toward Aimar’s exposed calf. The kick was to distract him and stop his advance, and as it met its mark his sword was passing overhead.

She was holding her staff down low, near the ground, and as his arm continued from the sword’s momentum, she brought it up rapidly, smashing it into his sword hand. She was left off-balance as a result, but the hit was strong enough to certainly break a few of the carpal bones in his right hand and ended up dislodging the blade from his grasp. Continuing the motion from the end of the staff toward the hilt of the sword, she was able to knock it out of reach. He was an experienced fighter, and she knew he would already be reacting. Being unarmed, he would need to stay close and prevent her from using the staff at a distance while he would attempt to wrest control of the staff. In an attempt to avoid this, Alithana jumped back rapidly, landing several feet away at the same time as the sword clattered to the ground near the edge of the road.

Aimar had indeed made a grab for the end of her staff using his left arm, but the arrow still in that shoulder slowed him enough that he was not able to get the staff before she fled back. However, he did not do what she had expected next. Instead of chasing her to maintain a close distance for unarmed fighting, he simply relaxed and stood straight up, remaining in the same spot as he massaged his now-injured hand. His face showed no consternation or frustration at what had happened. The fact that he did not rush forward to continue the brawl unnerved her slightly, and his calmness amplified this. She swallowed hard as she tried to catch her breath. She remained ready to strike if he made a move to retrieve his sword, and she took the lull in the action to try to figure out what he was thinking. Aimar wasn’t fighting seriously, and Alithana could only guess at his reasons. The opening that allowed her to disarm him seemed a little too obvious, as if he had allowed it to happen… She chose to be optimistic, and after catching her breath she spoke to him, “Surrender, Aimar! I have no desire to kill you, just go and tell the Elders you were unable to find me.”

A faint smile showed briefly at his lips after hearing this. She wanted to hope that he wasn’t fighting seriously because he might be a possible ally, and might help her to stop the Elders. Her hope began to fade, however, when he started laughing. It wasn’t loud or boisterous, but it was thick with contempt and arrogance. She tensed up, and a moment later another sound of a bowshot reached her ears. The next moment, she realized that Aimar had stood so calmly and arrogantly in order to bait the shot, to find out the location of the archer Jothal. A lot happened in that moment for her to come to this realization, however, and time seemed to slow down upon hearing the bowshot.

The first thing that happened was the sword leaping up from the ground straight toward Aimar’s outstretched hand, landing firmly in his grasp despite what should have been a thoroughly broken palm. This was a feat Alithana had not known was possible, and it happened in an instant. Aimar was already turning toward Jothal’s direction, bringing the sword up to knock the arrow away, snapping it like a twig as he did so. As the moment ended, he continued looking in that direction, staring directly toward where the arrow had flown from, and he spoke hoarsely, "Stay out of this, human, if you value your life. I have no business with you, but continue to be in my way and you will regret it."

Every advantage she had worked to obtain had seemingly vanished in that moment. Aimar had regained his sword, his injured hand is seemingly healed, and Jothal’s position was now exposed and it’s unlikely he’ll be able to even distract Aimar enough to make any more of a difference. Aimar started to turn toward her once more, and in his eyes she saw bloodlust. The earlier fighting had only been him toying with her, and now he would be fighting seriously. This was not a fight she would be able to win.

He didn’t waste any time, charging forward at a sprint and bringing his sword overhead, preparing to jump into a slash she would have no hope of blocking. Alithana knew that her staff had been taking a beating. Blocking and getting parried by such a sharp sword had marred and cut into the surface of the staff; it wouldn’t last much longer. As Aimar lept into the air, she positioned the staff to block it. Her mind was not even considering that she could win, but she was focused on the hope of a draw, a stalemate.

Her mind had already formed the spell, weaving the magic around her into the illusion she envisioned. Aimar would not be seeing reality, instead he would witness her jumped back, several steps out of reach from the blade, and in her place a body of shadow remaining, an unearthly shade seemingly eating the light that landed upon it. A ghastly, unnatural figure. Aimar would sense the spell being cast, but he was not familiar with illusion magic. Alithana hoped he would not realize the true reality.

Aimar brought the sword down, holding it tightly with both hands to slice the shade clear in two. Instead of jumping out of reach as he was seeing, she was drawing back toward the side. Using her thigh as fulcrum and all the strength she could muster to hold down the bottom end of the staff, Aimar’s broadsword connected with the far end. Aimar would be witnessing the shade being rended in twine, but for her the immense downward momentum of the blade began bending the staff sharply. She released her hold on the magic, and Aimar quickly realized what he had just done. It was too late for him to react, and the next instant the staff shattered completely in half.

The last thing she saw was Aimar’s face and the look of dread upon it. He was a famed weapon enchanter, and knew what occurred when the magical energies imbued in such weapons was suddenly released. The resulting blast drowned out all of her senses, a merciless force assaulting her from all directions. Pure white filled her vision, rapidly replaced by darkness as she lost consciousness.




TO BE CONTINUED...