Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (55 page)

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Authors: Philip Blood

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BOOK: Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger
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“What do we do with our fat sergeant
friend?” Rasal asked Becaris as they waited for the sun to set.

“We’ll just tie him up and leave him in that
small cave behind us. He’ll have to pray nothing happens to us
while we’re gone. Perhaps that will make him search his memory for
anything that will help us in the keep while we look for G’Taklar,”
Becaris decided.

“Good idea. What shall we do with him when
we leave town?” Lasar asked.

“We can let him go a day’s walk from the
edge of town. By the time he walks in we’ll be a long ride away.
Besides, he'll be loath to tell his superiors that he spewed forth
information like a geyser,” Becaris reasoned.

“That sounds good to me. Do you really think
G’Taklar is still alive?” Lasar asked, looking out across the
desert hills toward the keep.

“We can only hope, but whatever his
condition we must recover the ring; we can’t fail Elizabeth or
Michael,” Becaris concluded.

“We won’t fail, and something tells me that
G’Taklar is still alive, we’ll find him,” Rasal stated firmly.

When darkness hid them from casual sight
they rode their horses up the road toward the large stone keep that
sat in vigil over the valley and town of Headwater.

The keep was dominated by a square tower
sticking up into the star filled sky; lights glowed from openings,
giving the tower eyes with which to stare back at the night. The
whole keep was perched at the summit of a steep hill, the high
ramparts,
and sheer walls would
keep any attacking force at bay. Behind the large rectangular wall
were four interconnecting stone buildings and smoke pouring from
the chimney of one spoke of dinner being prepared.

The three Knight Protectors stopped their
horses part way up the hill, far enough from the summit, so their
approach would not be heard. Lasar and Becaris continued stealthily
on foot off the road, while Rasal approached the gate boldly on
horseback a short time later.

His approach was heard by the two gate
guards, who picked up their
pikes
and barred his way.

“Hail rider, stand
fer
search and inspection,” one gate guard called
out.

Rasal stopped his horse twenty paces short
of the gate and dismounted. He left his horse standing on the road
and walked immediately up to the guards.

The two soldiers pointed their
pikes
at the stranger who walked up to them so
boldly.

Rasal stopped two steps from the end of the
pikes and spoke in a commoner’s accent, “I have a message te
deliver te
Capt’in
Kains
.”

The guard to his left had a thick black
beard sprouting from below the standard Tchulian helmet which
resembled one end of a giant metal egg. “Who sent the message?” The
bearded guard demanded.

“Sergeant ‘
erms
,” he replied, again
faking
the lower class accent.

“Let’s see it,” the short guard on his right
asked.

“It’s
fer
the
capt’in
,” Rasal argued.

“We have to inspect it anyway, besides you
can’t come in the keep, so we'll have
te
do the deliver’in,” the bearded one said.

“All right, here,” Rasal said, handing over
the message.

Bored with the whole thing, the short guard
took the message from Rasal and scanned it quickly. He noticed
nothing out of the ordinary since the note had actually been
written by the sergeant for the Knight Protectors earlier in the
day.

His boredom quickly vanished and he nudged
his companion with his elbow. “
Listen
te this,” and then he read the note out,
‘Marthla’s
been ask
’in when she
can see you again. She asked me te send you these... ”

“What’s it say?” Rasal said as if he didn’t
already know, and tried to lean over the top of the paper as if to
read it upside down.

“Hey, stand back you fool, this isn’t
fer
you!” the bearded guard barked
and then added, “Wait here!” He grabbed his fellow guard and they
moved back five paces and turned their backs, so Rasal could not
hear as they read the rest of the note and chuckled about their
captain seeing a tavern tramp.

Rasal quickly stepped into the shadows of
the wall at the side of the stone entry. At the same
time,
Lasar stepped out of the bushes near the
horse and started to mount up.

The guards turned and saw what they thought
was the same man getting on his horse. “Hey, where do you think
you’re going?” the short guard grunted, he was annoyed that he had
not heard the messenger heading toward his horse.

“You said you’d deliver it
fer
me,” Lasar replied.

“It’s not all here, this says there was
someth’in
else
ye’re
supposed te deliver
with
the message.”

“Oh yulkcrap, I left the package in my
room!” Lasar exclaimed.

“Well, you better fetch it before we deliver
this message,” the bearded one advised as the two Tchulian guards
walked out toward Lasar.

Behind them, where no one could have
approached without their knowledge, Rasal slipped inside the
gate.

“I’ll be back in a bell or so,” Lasar said
and turned the horse to go back down the hill. He left the guards
and went to put
Rasal’s
horse with
the other two.

The guards went back to their post
snickering about the contents of the message. “I can’t believe she
sent him her bloomers! I didn’t think the
capt’in
had it in him.”

Inside the
keep,
Rasal flitted from shadow to shadow like a fish
leaping between dark pools of water. He found the worn stone steps
that lead to the top of the rampart walls. Before ascending he
carefully checked to make sure no one was watching, and then he
scampered up the steps quickly. Luck and the fact that they planned
their assault during the Keep’s dinnertime made it unlikely he
would be seen.

There was one
sentry
strolling along the front wall above the gate, but
he was deep
in
his thoughts on
this quiet night, protected by the height of the walls and the
knowledge that two other guards watched the only entrance. He paced
on, oblivious to the silent Rasal passing through the shadows.

Rasal moved to the back wall of the keep. He
crouched in the shadows while he unwound the rope concealed around
his waist and under his jerkin. He quickly made it fast and cast it
over the wall.

Moments later, he saw the rope quiver with
the tension of a man climbing. Becaris came over the wall quietly.
After another few
moments,
Lasar
came over as well. The three knights pulled the rope back up and
Rasal coiled it around his waist.

Becaris signaled for them to begin the
second part of their plan by holding up two fingers.

They stayed in the shadows and waited for
the front wall sentry to turn his back, then in single
file,
they crept down the stairs and entered
the nearest of the four structures by a side door.

"This is going too easy, we’re almost to the
passage leading to the dungeon,
"
Becaris whispered to the
twins.

Just as he finished whispering they heard
voices ahead coming their way.

Becaris made a small hiss
to get
the brother’s attention and then pointed
up a stairway on their right.

They quickly raced up the stairs going three
steps at a time and made the turn above just before the approaching
soldiers came into sight.

Luck was with them, the Knight Protectors
found themselves in a wide and empty hallway. Oil paintings of past
Tchulian commanders were interspersed between the numerous doors,
most of which were closed.

The knights heard the soldiers behind them
coming up the stairs, so they quickly moved down the hall to the
nearest door. Becaris listened carefully, but heard nothing, so he
took a chance and opened the door.

He found an empty bedroom, and from the size
and various objects of worth, decided that this probably belonged
to an officer.

Quickly the three Knight Protectors stepped
inside and closed the door.

Becaris stayed at the door and motioned for
Lasar to check out the other door that connected to this room on
the right wall.

Lasar nodded and moved over quietly to the
wooden
door
so that he could
listen. Rasal stayed with Becaris, ready to draw his sword if the
soldiers in the hall tried to enter.

Becaris heard the soldiers walk by and enter
another door further down. When he turned to check on Lasar the
knight gestured for him to come quickly.

Rasal stayed to listen at the door to the
main hall while Becaris went and listened to Lasar’s door.

The conversation Lasar had discovered going
on in the next door room was very interesting, and Becaris heard
them say, “...but Captain, we’ve lost fifteen men since the search
began.”

“I don’t care First Lieutenant, I want that
prisoner found. If he’s dead, then I want that ring and you’re
going to find it for me or I’ll feed you to that souldead creature
myself. Is that clear?”

“Yes, captain. I’m sorry I trusted Sergeant
Augher
with the prisoner, but I
don’t need to punish him, the good sergeant has already paid the
price of failure. That souldead creature who haunts the caverns got
him, sucked out his brain,” the first lieutenant said, with a
little fear in his voice.

“Serves him right, and you’re lucky I don’t
have you executed for your bad judgment in trusting the soldiers
under you with a prisoner who should have had your personal care.
I’ll give you words of advice First Lieutenant, never trust anyone.
Have you met Major Von Dracek?”

From the sound of his
voice,
Becaris thought that this change in the
conversation
had puzzled the first
lieutenant. “Yes, Sir,” the first lieutenant answered with a
questioning tone.

“Then you know that you don’t want to anger
the man. I have just received another message from the major out of
Lindankar, it arrived earlier by stirglik. He wants that ring.”

The first lieutenant gulped. “I’ll find it,
Sir.”

“Yes you will or both our heads could roll.
If that ring is not in my hands soon it will upset me. Then I’ll
have to find something to cheer me up, like sending you into the
caverns below, alone,” the captain finished.

“Yes Captain, I’ll go and push the men
harder, right away,” and Becaris heard the sounds of the first
lieutenant leaving out the door into the hall.

As soon as the first lieutenant’s footsteps
had faded away Becaris motioned for Lasar to stand back.

Becaris pulled out his belt dagger and
opened the door with his free hand.

The Tchulian captain glanced up at the
intrusion with a frown of annoyance that quickly turned to surprise
at seeing Becaris instead of a Tchulian soldier.

The merc officer grabbed at a dagger that
lay on the desk before him, but Becaris threw his own readied blade
first.

The dagger pierced the Tchulian in the
chest, a little more centered than Becaris had intended.

Becaris and Lasar rushed into the room as
the Tchulian officer fell from his chair.

“Find that message he mentioned!” Becaris
exclaimed.

They searched the papers on the desk and
found the message; they knew it was the right one from the crinkles
and folds from its recent trip. Unfortunately, it was written in
the Tchulian’s code.

“Vorg’s breath!” Lasar cursed.

Becaris did not waste time; he dropped to a
knee beside the dying officer on the floor and held the message in
front of the man’s eyes. “What does this message say?’ he demanded
of the wounded Merc.

“Eat crap,” the officer advised and blood
spewed from his mouth.

Lasar reached forward and grasped the hilt
of the dagger that protruded from the officer’s chest as he asked,
“Who was behind the plot against Lord Ardellen?”

The Captain looked into the steel gray eyes
of the knight and then to his hand clasping the dagger; even the
light touch when Lasar had taken hold was excruciatingly
painful.

“You’ll never believe... ” the Merc gasped,
“it was lord Jatar’s foster brother.”

“Which one?” Becaris demanded.

But the officer started choking and his body
arched up in one last spasm. “Darkness take you!” he cursed and his
body suddenly went limp as he died.

Becaris sighed heavily.

Lasar pulled out the dagger and returned it
to Becaris.

“Bring the note Lasar; perhaps we can
decipher it later.”

Lasar stuffed it within his leather armor
and followed Becaris back into the room where Rasal guarded the
door.

A moment later the three knights slipped
into the main hall and crept back down the stairs to the first
level.

 

Elizabeth and Poison sat around their new
camp. They were in a small valley between two gently rolling hills
of tall yellow grass. A rock outcropping circled the top of each
hill like a jeweled crown on a monarch’s head.

Hetark was busy grooming the horses, he had
not allowed the women to help, particularly Poison. “No thank
you,
Ma’am, I lost the bet, so
it’s my job,” he had told her when she started to help with the
horse picket.

Poison sat down angrily at the fire.
Elizabeth was actually amused by their friction because she could
see something that Hetark missed. She decided to take Poison’s mind
off her anger.

“Now is a good time for me to take a look at
that eye,” Elizabeth said cheerily.

Poison’s good eye stared at Elizabeth; now
that it came down to it she was a little concerned about the
prospect of magic being used on her body. Poison had no experience
with aura powers.

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